


Depth of Faith

by heartbeathurtsnomore



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies), Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Drama, Gen, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 44,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartbeathurtsnomore/pseuds/heartbeathurtsnomore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor MacManus is looking for his brother, who he lost while escaping the undead, and has ended up in Woodbury. When Andrea enlists his help to visit her friends in the prison he must decide where his loyalties lie and discover the truth in the worst possible way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He killed the engine and flicked his cigarette out the rolled down window. The hot Georgia wind blew across his skin and for a moment he just wanted to bask in the rare gust of wind but he knew he had to get out of this car and make his way to see the Governor. Pushing open the car door he got out and tossed the keys to his passenger. Some young kid, all hyped up and ready for a world he had no idea about. Hell something's never change.  
Out of the trunk he took out two bags and hauled them off to where the Governor's apartment was. There were some simple things in the bags, things they were running low on but most of it was hospital supplies. It had been overrun where he had gotten them and he wore the blood on his clothes as proof.  
He climbed the stairs, the dangle of the necklace at his neck the only sound he could really hear. Lately everything had been so quiet 'round here, ever since the attack. Even he had been full of nothing but quiet. He kept his distance, convincing himself there was no reason for him to get along with these people. He wouldn't be here long, he just needed to find his brother and then he'd be on his way.  
He knocked on the door,adjusting the bags on his shoulder. Again he knocked until finally it opened.  
There the Governor stood in all his superior presence. The black patch over his eye only added to his recent stint of going insane and the way he merely stared at him told him the talk was true. Whatever had happened here, well it had driven this man pretty far from reality.  
"Back already, are we?" There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He had wanted his privacy, that much was obvious.  
"Course I am. What'd I tell you? Said you can count on me for as long I'm here."  
The Governor managed a twisted excuse of a smile. "So you did."  
He nodded, handed the bags to him before turning on his heel and beginning to walk away.  
"Connor." He called out, his voice commanding.  
Connor turned back around with lifted brows. "Yeah?" He asked, glancing around for a moment just to see he wasn't talking to someone else.  
"You want a drink?"  
Connor thought about it but he figured he'd rather not."Nah I'm good."  
The Governor nodded. Was that disappointment in his eyes? Did he need someone to talk to? Well this man was practically a pillar of strength. He didn't need anyone.  
Connor left the building and found his way back to his own place where he holed up in. He threw off his coat and sat down on the small chair near the front door. Fishing into the pockets of his coat he took out his cigarettes and lit one up. He rested his head back with a sigh and rested his feet up on the ottoman. He knew he was one of the few people here who got one of the most furnished place and he was grateful for that but hell he worked for it,  
He remembered the first time he had come here. It had always been Atlanta for him and Murphy ever since they had run into a small group of men who had been heading their themselves. They had been to every base and hospital between Boston and Atlanta and the surrounding areas. They went from state to state searching for answers and an end to everything they had experienced. He had stumbled on Woodbury not too long after they had found Atlanta completely overrun.  
It had seemed entirely impossible when he had been brought inside. An actual town where life began in the morning and ended peacefully at night. Too damn good to be true. The Governor told him that he could stay but that he had to know the situation they were in. They had recently been attacked and were in the dangerous process of arming themselves and protecting what they had.  
He blew out a mouthful of smoke and watched the ribbons intertwine within each other. He tried not to think of what he had before this. When they had gotten to Atlanta everything had changed, everything had fallen apart. He was glad they had taken him in here and since he was useful both in skill and shooting he was needed for work 'round here. Something to do to keep his mind off all the terrible possibilities that could have happened between Atlanta and now.  
He had been surprised that the Governor had allowed him and had placed at least a bit of trust in him. Even though Connor had made it clear that he was only here until he found his brother it seemed that people were starting to include him in on things. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He wouldn't be here long. He'd find his brother soon enough.  
His brother.  
The thought of Murphy struck him as hard as it always did. Them losing each other had been the worst thing Connor had ever experienced. Losing his brother and having everything fall apart. He had faith that he would find him though. If Connor had found this place then so would Murph. He had faith in that. No matter how hopeless the world had become.  
He had decided that they wouldn't stay here once he found his brother. Not with some kind of war brewing up. They'd be just fine on their own. It had always been them two anyways.  
A knock nearly pounded on his door and he cursed at how it startled him. He stubbed out his cigarette and rose from the chair. When he opened it he saw Andrea standing there. He tried hard not to admire the blonde standing there in front of him, simply because everyone knew she shared the Governor's bed. She was really something though, strong, beautiful, impressive. He was isn't sure if it was just these times that made him think this way but he was pretty sure that wasn't the case. Andrea was a beautiful woman and he knew he had to set up some limits in his mind.  
"Just came from his place, doesn't seem like he wanted any company." He said before any greeting was made. He leaned against the doorpost.  
"I'm not here about Phillip." She used his first name, was the only one in all of Woodbury that did. It still sounded strange to hear it. Was even stranger to think of this woman in the Governor's arms. What had driven her there?  
"Then why is it you're here?" He asked, trying not to smile at his own thoughts. He could tell Andrea was upset, he had to be somewhat considerate. After all she had played a big part in him being allowed to stay within the safe confines of this town.  
"Can I come in?"  
Connor nodded. "Sure yeah." He opened the door wider to let her in.  
Andrea came in, wiping a few pearls of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. He noticed how panicked she seemed, how distressed. She was looking up at him with a sort of desperation. His brows knitted together as concern began to fill him.  
"What is it?" He asked, pushing his fingers back through his slightly sweat dampened hair.  
"I don't know how to say this." She began, looking down breaking their eye contract.  
"Well come on, spit it out." He stepped forward, looking down at her urging her to speak again.  
"I need you to take me somewhere…"  
"Me?"  
Andrea nodded. "You're the only one who has access to a car and Phillip- well he trusts you."  
"He trusts Milton too."  
She shook her head. "Not like he does you…Please?"  
He sucked in his breath and it was his turn to lower his eyes. He thought about it a moment. This wasn't just another run, this was a personal request from a good woman. He had struggled to decide on what kind of man the Governor was, knowing that there were things he had to do. Did he still continue without Murphy? Was their calling still alive when they both weren't there?  
"Where is it you're gonna be wanting to go?" He asked, finally looking back to her.  
She hesitated a moment as if she too were struggling. "The prison." She finally admitted, letting out a sigh afterwards.  
"You aren't talking about THE prison, are you?"  
She didn't answer his question but the answer was found in the blue of her eyes. He had heard about that place, how whoever inhabited those walls had been the ones who had attacked Woodbury. He had also heard that those people were Andrea's friends. What a damn cruel world they all lived in. But it had always been cruel, hadn't it?  
"I'm not sure about this Andrea….it's bound to piss him off."  
"They're my friends…" She pleased, her worry evident in her gaze.  
"And it's my neck."  
"It'll be mine. He won't have to know you helped."  
Connor eyed her for awhile. He thought of what he would have done before all this had gone down. Would he have helped her? Would Murphy be up to it? It was dangerous, that alone would make Murphy up for it. He nearly smiled and cringed at the thought. It was comforting to think of his brother, keeping that flame of hope alive. But it was also painful, damn thing nearly tore his heart out.  
"Alright, alright you got me. I'll be helping you but only this one time. There won't be a next time, I have things I have to do too."  
She nodded, her understanding of his situation was apparent but he never asked about it. She carried the pain in her eyes like everyone did nowadays.  
"Tomorrow, early morning…be ready." She gently ordered before she made her way to the door. "Oh and Connor?"  
"Yeah?" He turned to look at her.  
She smiled a little. "Thank you."  
"Ain't no problem unless-"  
She nodded. "Unless it becomes a problem." She finished and they both laughed before she closed the door and her footsteps faded away.  
Connor again dropped himself into the chair, taking out another cigarette. He didn't light it though, he just held it between his fingers and let his eyes look out the small curtained window. He breathed out a prayer before he rested his head back, dropping the cigarette to the ground.  
"Where the hell are you, Murph?" He whispered aloud before he let sleep settle over him.


	2. Chapter 2

He threw the bags into the back of the car and rested back against it. He was parked near the end of Woodbury, waiting for Andrea to come out to meet him. He touched his hand to the guns in their leather holster beneath his black coat. The sun was shining brightly, today held no memory of the breeze yesterday. All it was was pure heat and he hated it. He hated that the damned walkers weren't the only things out there to put a battle up against. He had the heat to deal with as well as the Governor's wrath if he were found out.

He was getting a bit antsy, hoping Andrea would hurry on up and make her way out here. He didn't want to be seen by anyone, helping this woman go on back to Woodbury's enemy. This was a betrayal in every sense of the word and he wasn't quite comfortable with it. He was always one to stay true to his word, to carry loyalty. Never had he turned his back on a promise and he wondered if this here was a sin.

With a struggled sigh he pulled a cigarette out from the inside of his coat, lighting it up and taking a deep pull. He had the thought to turn away from this car and have Andrea come up with her own way. But he had also given his word to her as well, hadn't he? He feared he wasn't making much sense, he was scared that things were never going to be the same after this.

"You look like you're struggling with this." Andrea's voice came to him and Connor turned around to look at her.

She was carrying her own bag on her shoulder and her hair was tied back in a ponytail. The sun was also beating down on her, her eyes rested on him. She was afraid he was going to back out.

"Aren't you?" He questioned, taking the bag from her and throwing it in with the rest of them.

She sighed and looked away. He could see every shade of frustration on her face. She was coping with too damn much. Was it really so hard for him to carry at least some of the burden? He had done so much in his life, killed quite a bit of people all in the name of God. It came easily then, the decisions, the pull of the trigger. So why was this decision so difficult? Why couldn't he get an answer? Why couldn't he figure out if the Governor was a good man?

"But you're still coming?" There was a plea in her voice as she looked up at him.

"Yeah. Yeah. Gave you my word, didn't I?" He flicked away the cigarette and pulled open the car door.

"I guess you did." She nodded and went around to the passenger's side, getting in. He started up the engine, pulled away from the town and drove out onto the open road.

He could feel her eyes on him every once and awhile and he felt a bit nervous beneath her stare. He rolled down the window, the wind dancing across the skin. He could see walkers along the roadside, following after the need for flesh. He cringed thinking about it, hated thinking of what the possibilities were if he left himself to those things.

"You ever wonder what it's like?" He looked to her, his voice breaking the silence that had lasted for awhile.

"What what's like?"

He lightly rubbed at his lips with his fingers before glancing back to her again. "Getting bit. You ever wonder what it'd be like?"

His words seemed to fill the car with a burdened silence that he could feel grow thicker. She didn't answer, she just looked out the windshield, her lips pressed tightly together. Connor felt like he knew what he had done. He hadn't considered the thought she might have seen something happen, that she might have experienced more than he had.

"Sorry. I wasn't thinking." Connor said softly.

"It was my sister…" Andrea finally spoke, the pain in her voice beyond evident.

Connor wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't sure if he had forced her to this point of admittance.

"…our camp was overrun and she went back to the RV just for something so simple as going to the bathroom and when she came back out…" She broke herself off, turning her eyes back out the window. A trail of tears danced down the skin of her cheek. "…I held her in my arms until morning, waiting for her to come back, praying that I would find something in her that would be Amy still. She wasn't there, she didn't hear anything I said, did I?" She glanced over at him, taking the pearls of tears with her fingertips. "I shot her. I ended it. Did I do her a favor? Or did I kill her?"

Connor swallowed back any emotion that had built up at her words. He watched the road stretch out before him, the bright sun glaring off the windshield. He was damn glad that he had his sunglasses to keep the rays out of his eyes.

"You did what had to be done." He simply stated without room for any argument or other sort of answer.

Her eyes stayed on him, studying him as if she were waiting for something more than that. Like she needed something more than that final word. She accepted it though and she lowered her head.

"Maybe you're right." She replied with a nod. "And what about you, Connor? Phillip says you're here until you find your brother. Do you think he'll show up? In Woodbury?"

"I found it which means he'll find it too. It was always that way with us. I did something and he came behind me. Not because I made him but because…it was always me and him. No one else."

"You were close." Andrea pointed out.

"To a fault." He laughed a little and nodded.

"And you know he's alive."

"I'd feel it if he weren't. We were twins, ain't that what's supposed to happen?"

"I think so." She said, anything to make the emotion that she could hear in his voice settle down. There was something fragile to his strength that she saw in him. Maybe it was the loss of his brother, maybe it was the dire world that they lived in. She wasn't sure.

"We searched everywhere for somewhere safe. I finally found it and I'm hoping that now he'll follow after me. Just like he always did." He gave a slight smile but it sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself.

"That tattoo, what does it mean?" She asked, making a small gesture to his left hand.

He glanced down at his hand and he felt his heart ache just a little more. "Veritas….Truth." He said. What was the truth? Was Murphy still out there? Was he doing the right thing? "Murphy had one just like it….Justice his meant."

She made a small noise that said she understood and again things fell silent. Finally they saw the prison structure just ahead. Connor's heart began to race a little quicker and he became anxious. He gripped tighter onto the wheel as he stopped the car on the dirt road.

"You can wait for me." She said, looking out the windshield at the courtyard.

The walkers were everywhere, looking around for something to eat. The hot Georgia sun baking their dead flesh.

Connor shook his head. "Hell no, why would I let you go in there alone? Gave you my word to bring you here, didn't I?"

"You did. None of this is your responsibility." She replied as she opened the door to step out.

"Doing the right thing, that's my responsibility." He stated without a way for him to be swayed in his decision.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded and got out just as she did.

"You have ammo?"

"I do."

"Well let's get going. We can get past those bastards, they have nothing on us, right?"

She smiled a bit despite the worry in her blue eyes. He gave her a nod and together they walked towards the crushed gates. There was an isolated van with an open back and parked cars. He and Andrea stayed together. Connor preferred it that way, how was he supposed to lose someone else?

Walkers came closer and Andrea took the hatchet she had brought with her. She slashed at their deteriorating faces and Connor drew one of his guns. They made it halfway without many of the walkers coming by until one came right before him. He pushed at it, aiming his gun and burying a bullet into his head.

"You alright?" Andrea asked and Connor nodded.

"Are you alone?" A harsh voice called out from behind the gate near the opening of the prison.

"Open the gate!" Andrea called out, her panic rising as more walkers took notice of their presence. She cursed herself. She knew better than to come out here so unguarded. She could have just followed after Michonne's advice, use the dead as protection against the dead themselves.

"Are you alone?" The voice demanded again.

"Open the damn gate!" Connor yelled out, as both he and Andrea were pressed against the gate.

Finally the gate was unlocked and pulled open. They urged inside and forced to their knees. One of the people locked up the gate again and Connor glanced up at where they were.

"I asked if you were alone." A man demanded again. He was tall, his curly hair slick with sweat and his eyes wild and on the defense.

"We are." Andrea replied, her confusion and near fear on her face.

"Who is he?" Another voice asked, a female. She held a heavy gun, her hair brown and down the length of her neck.

"Welcome back." The man said, pulling Andrea to her feet after they had searched them both.

"Look what we have here…Blondie and the Governor's lap dog." Merle Dixon came forward, his eyes darkening and full of a million different threats.

Connor looked up at the man and instantly regretted his decision in coming here. Merle Dixon had been a traitor to Woodbury and now that he saw him here at the prison he felt doubt fill him.

"Get up." The man with the curls demanded of Connor.

He stood up, dusting off his clothes as he looked him in the eyes.

"Rick please, we aren't here to hurt any of you."

"I wouldn't let that happen." He stated before striding off inside the prison.

"Get on in." Merle ordered, lifting his gun. His handless arm menacing with a blade attached to it.

Connor looked to Andrea and she returned his gaze with equal panic. What the hell he let her get him into?


	3. Chapter 3

He dusted himself off when Merle had finally let him go. He had pushed him inside, letting Andrea go on in first.

"You're lucky I don't cut your other hand off." He threw out at Merle who just stood there smiling at him like he knew this would be the last time they would see each other.

Connor looked around at the small group of people who had emerged from the cell block. A boy, a teenage girl, two women, an Asian guy, a one legged old man, Merle, the guy Andrea had called Rick and then there was a man who made a sharp sting of confusion fall on him.

Everything inside of Connor screamed, telling him this was Murphy but he knew better. This guy was every shade different than his brother. For one this guy was looking at Connnor like he was something ready to attack, like he wouldn't mind burying one of those arrows from the crossbow he carried into his head. His eyes were different, darker in depth, more filled with an incredible amount of pent up anger. Murphy's eyes were always so clear of that, he was quick to piss off but by the end of the day he was alright with the way the world was. But Connor still couldn't stop himself from checking the guys hands, checking desperately for any kind of tattoo. He had them yeah but none of the same ones that Murphy did.

It was a stab straight to his already bleeding heart. What kind of trick was this? To stand before this guy who had nearly every feature of Murphy's and yet wasn't him at all. It angered him to the point of lashing out. He didn't want to stay here, being held at gunpoint and having to see this in front of him. But he knew better than to let any of that out. He'd only get himself in a ton of trouble that way.

"Andrea, what are you doing here?" The Asian kid asked, stepping forward, his young face screwed up with confusion.

"I had to see for myself." She replied, her eyes studying each person with overwhelming relief and yet conflicting fear.

Connor almost cursed himself for not waiting behind. Hell this could get ugly.

"Who's this?"

Connor looked in the direction of the man who almost had Murphy's face. The accent wasn't his brother's either. This guy was some redneck. It angered him further. What kind of damn torture was this?

"Connor. He was the only one who would help." Andrea replied softly, her voice was breaking. What had she expected?

"He's more than that." Merle spoke, his remaining hand toying with his heavy gun. "This here is the Governor's lap dog."

"What's he talking about?" Rick asked of Andrea, suddenly on alert.

Andrea sighed and was about to speak but Merle cut him off.

"When the Governor says jump this bastard says how high." There was a bitterness in his voice that made Connor look back at him.

"I don't remember doing anything to you...You jealous?" Connor was about ready to approach him but Andrea held him back with a desperate hand to his chest. He looked down at her.

"Please. Not now." She softly said, her eyes filling with a million different feelings.

He nodded and returned to his place, knowing that causing trouble was no way to go about any of this.

"He's only in Woodbury looking for his brother." Andrea said in his defense.

Connor looked at him again, trying to fool himself into thinking that this was his brother. It had to be. What were the odds? What were the damned stupid odds?

"But that's beside the point... I had to see all of you, see what happened."

"What happened?" Rick stepped closer, looking down at her with a threat blaring in his eyes. "What happened is that you boyfriend rammed through out gates and nearly killed us."

Her brows tensed with confusion. "Phillip said you fired first."

"He's lying." Rick turned away from as if in disgust. His hand looked to be permanently set on his pistol. In this world, everyone's was.

"Why am I the enemy? Why are you all angry at me?" Andrea demanded. "I came as soon as I heard."

"We were in Woodbury days ago." The Asian kid spoke up again.

"As soon as I could." She defended, her eyes full of the upset they were causing her.

"Maybe this was a mistake Andrea, let's get out of here." Connor said, pulling at her shirt so that they could go. He felt stifled being in the same room as this group. With Merle Dixon and that guy who looked like Murphy.

"Not yet." She said, pulling from him and returning her eyes to Rick.

It clicked in Connor's head. Hadn't Merle also been looking for his brother? Hadn't that been what the Governor said he had betrayed Woodbury for?

"Wait, is this your brother?" Connor asked, pointing across the cellblock to the one with the crossbow. He had connected their accents with each other's.

"Sure is. Daryl." Merle nodded in Daryl's direction. A smile spread on his face and then a laugh ripped out from his lips. "He does look like him, don't he?"

"What the hell you two talking about?" Daryl questioned, looking between the two of them.

"The brother Connor here is looking for, looks just like my baby brother. Funny, ain't it?"

Connor hated the way Merle was making it into a joke, the way he was mocking him. He still wasn't sure what the hell he had done to this hick but he was sure that sometime down the road Connor would bash his damn head in for the way he was smiling right then.

"That's not important right now. Andrea, can you help us?" Rick broke up the conversation, turning it again over to Andrea.

"What do you mean it ain't important?" Connor demanded, looking at Rick with his anger coming forward. "My brother's missing."

"I didn't mean it like that." Rick replied, his hand lifting to calm the situation.

"Maybe some of you have seen him?" Connor fumbled inside his coat for the picture he carried with him to show others at moments like this.

"None of us have seen your brother..." Merle said, a smile still tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Well it seems like you've found your stupid brother." Connor said, ripping his eyes back at him, their glare harsher this time.

"Both of you enough." Rick almost yelled out.

Connor was surprised that he had listened. He understood that now was not the time and he could tell these people had been through a lot.

"Now can you help us?" Rick asked again of Andrea.

"Help you? Maybe you can talk this out. It can't be all death, there has to be some kind of compromise." She was pleading, trying to smooth down a war that had already begun.

"Did he tell you he wanted to talk this out?" The old man asked.

Andrea sighed and looked away.

"Get us in." Rick said, his determination evident as was his anger towards the Governor. What the hell had happened here?

"No." Andrea firmly said with a shake of her head.

"Then we're done here." Rick said, turning his back on Andrea and leaving back into the other cellblock.

Andrea heavily sighed and lowered her head, upset with how it had ended. Soon after some of the people came to her, greeting her and filling her in on what had happened since they had last seen each other.

Connor stood on his own, clutching the picture in his hand tightly. He saw that despite the problem at hand there was a connection between these people. Enemy to Woodbury or not these people loved each other. That started to anger Connor too. Why did everyone find who they wanted except him?

He saw how Andrea's gaze drifted behind him and he followed it with his own eyes. He understood what it was, who she was looking at. Michonne. He had heard all about her. She was the one who had taken the Governor's eye with the katana at her back now. He wondered what he should do in the position he was in. There was pretty much a bounty on all of their heads, the Governor wanted them all dead, so why was he finding it so hard to do something about it?

Andrea stalked off, leaving the area to go outside. She was obviously so overwhelmed. Michonne followed after her, the tension rising between them.

"You honestly think you're gonna find your brother?" Daryl asked suddenly, his voice softer despite the suspicion in his eyes.

"I do." Connor replied, unable to look him in the eyes.

Merle laughed and shook his head. "You really think it's gonna go your way? The Governor already had one guy looking for his brother, he doesn't like crap like that. You really think you're any different?"

Daryl glanced up at Merle but made no response to his brothers words. "Let me see that." He gestured to the picture in Connor's hand.

He took in a deep breath and handed the picture over. There was surprise all over Daryl's face when he looked down at it. It was more than a resemblance, Connor knew. What kind of shock was that for Daryl?

Daryl looked up at him, and handed the picture back to him. "Hope you find him." He said, not phased it seemed by it. There was a sympathy in his voice that Connor understood. This one wasn't like Merle at all, damn relief that was.

Connor tucked the picture back into his coat and made to turn around but stopped when Daryl spoke again.

"You tell Andrea to make sure that the next time she sees Phillip to tell him I'm gonna take his other eye." And with that he got off where he was sitting and walked away.

Connor watched him. He nearly even had the same walk but he forced his eyes away and looked back to Merle.

"What really happened here?" Connor asked, pushing down his anger towards the bastard with the irritating smile in front of him.

"I really have to tell you? What they say is true, Governor came here and nearly killed them all."

Connor's brows knitted together as he tried to figure out why the Governor would lie like that. It was another sharp blow that struck him. Had he been helping the kind of man he had rid the world of before? But how did he know Merle was telling the truth? Obviously the Governor was telling the truth about this guy and Michonne being traitors to Woodbury seeing as they were here. So why the hell was he so quick to believe Merle's words? Did it have anything to do with the fact that Daryl had his brothers face and because Andrea was so close to these people? Would he really follow her here and stay here if that's what she decided to do?  
He needed help, a little guidance. Damn, maybe even a bit of a sign.


	4. Chapter 4

Rick had offered them a car but Andrea had told them to keep it, they had a car of their own. Connor didn't like the thought of walking back through the walker ridden yard but he figured that was what they had to do. He checked the magazine in his gun and made sure Andrea was fully loaded as well.

"Take care." Rick said to Andrea, his voice suddenly breaking from its former defiance into something that perhaps resembled the man he had been before all of this.

She smiled. A weak smile. "You too."

Merle was standing at the gates, his heavy hand ready to pull it open and a smirk on his face. "Connor, don't follow the Governor around too much. Wouldn't wanna kill you."

Connor didn't reply, he couldn't bear to. His throat felt stiff and his tongue too thick to move. Being out here in the open air hadn't done much to help with how stifled he felt. Daryl was standing nearby, his hands readying his crossbow and his eyes scoping out beyond the gate. They all just wanted to make sure Andrea would get out safe.

It was on Connor's mind too of course but the thought of Murphy was killing him. What had he done that was so horrible that would force him to live knowing this man had his brother's face but had nothing else? He had his face but he wasn't him.

Connor glanced up at Daryl who hadn't paid him any mind since he had given the threat to him. If he looked close enough, if he fooled himself he would be able to convince himself that this was Murphy. But what good would it do? His brother was gone, somewhere he wasn't even sure of.

The thought of it alone sent a sharp pain through him. He couldn't think on it again, not if he wanted to get out of here.

Finally Merle pulled the gate shut, allowing both himself and Andrea to slip moved together, weapons raised. The walkers took notice of them, coming closer with only one intention. Andrea lifted her hatchet and cut through their dead flesh, blood gushing out and groans getting louder as more came near.

Connor could look now and no longer be disgusted. Death was never frightening for him but when all this had started happening the look of death became something too familiar. He had delivered death, had killed so many men and yet this was different. This, he told himself, was easier. They weren't alive, were they? This wasn't a sin. He was still following the laws he had always lived by.

With that thought in mind Connor raised his gun and took down two walkers, the bullets creating a black and gaping hole in their foreheads. He heard Andrea pull out her hatchet with a heavy breath before they rejoined each other.

They had made it to the car. Connor let out a breath. Another day, it seemed, awaited him. He wasn't sure if that was relief he felt course through him or regret. How could he go on like this without Murphy by his side?

Andrea let out a breath as well and threw her hatchet into the car. Connor put his guns back into their holster and looked out at the yard again. He lit up a cigarette and took a pull, letting the smoke veil the image he saw before him.

"Damned things won't go away." He muttered, his disgust showing on his face as his brows furrowed and he shook his head slightly.

"Sometimes I think they never will." Andrea said, coming beside him and looking out as well.

"How come we can't survive being as stupid as them?' He wondered, watching how they walked aimlessly. People had died at the hands of these things, people with purpose.

Andrea sighed and pushed back strands of her now messy hair. "I'm not sure." She replied, obviously as deep in thought as he was.

A moment of silence passed until Connor looked down at Andrea. She was silently crying, her eyes looking at the prison as if she was unsure of every decision she had made up until this point. There was a kind of longing in her eyes mingled together with a painful conflict that was testing her strength.

"Hey now, don't cry. You came out here, saw how they were." He broke the silence with a tone of comfort after he had flicked his cigarette away.

She shook her head and wiped at the tears that stained her cheeks. "They have a baby. A little baby. She's so small and Lori.." She cut herself off and covered her face with her hands.

He wasn't sure what to do. He knew what he knew about women and he wasn't sure if that was a lot. But this wasn't just any woman, this was Andrea. She rarely showed anyone outside of her private circle her emotions and she was now showing them to him. Did this mean she trusted him? Had she always? Or had his helping her come out here done it?

She tried to gather herself together before she met Connor's eyes. "Michonne said Phillip sent Merle to kill her. She said that he almost killed her." Her voice was breaking, wavering in a place of darkness that he hoped she wouldn't lose herself in.

"Well then why's she up there with Merle? Don't make much sense now does it?" He was trying his hardest to assure her that she was making the right choices but when doubt started to fill him as well he wasn't sure what else to say. The Governor? A murderer? He didn't want to think of it. He glanced briefly down at his hand. Veritas. What the hell was the truth?

"But Connor, what if...what if it's true?" She started to cry again the tears again coming quickly.  
He couldn't take seeing her in this state, his mind was working up a million things to say but none of them sounded right. So instead of offering empty words he reached his arms around her and held her against his chest. She seemed to break them, her crying struggled as her hand gripped onto the lapels of his black coat.

He let his mind wander, not wanting to break her moment of release. He thought of what Murphy would say were he to see him this way. He would probably laugh and ask him why he'd do a hell lot of everything to get into a woman's pants. Connor could have laughed at the thought but the overwhelming shot of sorrow reminded him of the agony that Murphy wasn't going to be here anytime soon. A glaze of tears clouded his blue eyes but he held it back. This wasn't the time to break, not now.

After awhile she looked up at him, pulling from his chest and wiping at her tears. "I'm sorry." She whispered.

"No, no, don't be. It's alright. Really."

She wrung her hands before dropping them to her sides. "So what do I do? What is the right thing to do?"

He studied her a moment, seeing the tormenting conflict in her eyes. He swallowed down harshly, his own doubts, his own uncertainties. "I guess it depends on what it is you believe."

She smiled slightly, barely a stretch of the lips. "Do I even have time to figure that out?"

"No, I suppose you don't." He replied with the most honesty he found.

She nodded, regretting his response and turned to the car. "We should get back."

"First we're gonna grab some supplies, we don't need him wondering what we were really doing." Connor said. He hated this lying, this feeling of betrayal. But who was he betraying? Was he really betraying the Governor? Or was he betraying the truth? Those people that were almost helpless in the prison? Was he betraying Murphy?

They both got into the car and Connor drove as quickly as he could to the nearest town. He glanced over at Andrea and gave her a bit of a smile.

"Wait here, I'll grab a couple of things. Keep it running." He tapped the wheel before getting out and walking towards the nearest shop.

He pulled out one of his guns, holding it up as he opened the door quietly. It creaked and he cringed. Any noise was enough to draw those damn things in. It was dark inside but he was glad they had yet to lose the daylight that was shining gold through the windows. He listened for anything from inside and when he heard nothing he went on in. He grabbed a few things, personal products, a few bottles of pills and pushed them into the pockets of his coat. Quickly he slipped out of the shop again and turned around.

The gun he was holding nearly slipped from his hand when he looked back at the car. He could hear muffled cries from Andrea, calling out his name. There were about 20 walkers clawing at the car, desperately wanting to get in. He drew another gun out and rushed towards the car. He thought differently about firing the gun but decided that it didn't matter if he drew others from around as long as he got Andrea safe.

He opened fire, burying bullets into their heads. He got a glimpse at Andrea inside who was frightened, clutching tightly to the hatchet in her hands. He gestured to her to start the car but she shook her head, demonstrating that it wasn't working. When he noticed that there was smoke dancing up from the engine he also saw the walkers coming towards him.

"Damn it." He muttered as he missed a couple of shots, getting them in the chest which didn't even make them falter.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw that there were other walkers coming out from different shops, dragging their torn and deteriorating bodies along. The gunshots calling out to them in a loud song. The car door opened once the walkers by it were clear.

"Andrea! Get back inside!" He shouted although he knew that she wouldn't listen.

He cursed to himself, knowing that he had made a mistake in firing the guns but what else could he have done? Andrea got out, rushing to his side and looking at the approaching walkers, there were about 20 more.

"What's wrong with the car?" He asked of her.

"Overheated I think." She replied, taking her gun out as well.

"We got enough ammo?"

"I hope so."

He nodded to her, and cocked back the trigger. The bullets flew again, stopping some walkers before they made it any closer but bringing others further. The afternoon was wearing off but the heat didn't feel like it was fading anytime soon. Sweat pearled on his forehead and caressed down his back.

"Damn it, I'm out!" Andrea cried, checking her pockets and her gun.

Connor tried to think fast, he was running low too. Just before a plan was conjured up in his mind something whipped past him. A walker fell and he saw the feathers of an arrow. He turned around in the direction it had come from and saw Daryl and Maggie standing there. Maggie had her gun raised and Daryl was reloading his crossbow.

"We saw the car smoking from back at the prison! What are you? An idiot? Driving like that?" Daryl shouted as they came to join Connor and Andrea. "Going back to Woodbury?"

"If we can." Connor answered and Daryl nodded.

"We'll get you another car. Come on, let's clear these bastards and we'll get back to the prison."

Connor didn't have time to answer as he raised his gun again. He had to put himself in check and not think of how good it felt to see Murphy's face next to him. But it wasn't Murphy at all,he just had his face, it was Daryl and nothing was ever going to be the same.


	5. Chapter 5

They walked quietly through the woods. Andrea and Maggie walked behind him and Daryl, exchanging in low voices things that had happened since the last time they had seen each other. Connor had a thought to listen to what they were saying. He was curious to know what kind of woman Andrea had been before all this, before the conflict that now reigned in her eyes. Before fear had driven them all to the breaking point. But he refrained, knowing that she knew Maggie much more than she knew him and would perhaps tell her things he was never supposed to know.

Daryl was silent as he walked alongside him, his eyes searching their surroundings. Connor was on guard as well but he was distracted. He was still coming down from taking down all those walkers and was still so angry that he was out of ammo. He was still lost to the failing thought that Daryl would somehow turn into his brother. That all this was some sort of trick. Murphy was always pulling things that were ridiculous. He was always getting caught though, his touch in each prank obvious. This wasn't a trick, Connor knew. He needed to cling to something though or else he would go insane. He didn't want that to happen at all. But he had to come to grips with being without his brother until he found him. With a heavy sigh he tried not to think of the thought that was ever pressing. If he ever found him.

"Y'ain't from around here, are you?" Daryl asked, his voice low enough to not attract any of the walkers.

Connor smirked and shook his head. "Boston. But me and my brother come from Ireland."

"Long way." Daryl said, taking his answer with a nod. "How'd you end up all the way hell out here?"

"News flash, said that Atlanta had the answers. Every major city had the answers by then I think and every time we came across one they never did."

"Atlanta went down pretty early." Daryl stated, noting the suffering in the man's voice.

"Wish someone would've told us that before we made our way through the hoards."

"No one's gonna tell you anything these days."

"Noticed."

Daryl fell quiet a moment, wanting to let Connor's obvious struggle a moment before he continued. "Your brother, he come out to Atlanta with you?"

Connor nodded. "Yeah."

Daryl knew not to press anymore. He wasn't one for talking anyways. He felt so at ease around this guy though and he was drawn to that idea. With Merle he always felt like he had fallen short somewhere, like his brother wasn't so keen on how he had turned out. But Connor here, this was a man who loved his brother. Did Merle seem this way while looking for him? No he was busy torturing Maggie and Glenn.

"You were in Woodbury with Merle?"

Connor looked up at him and shook his head. "No came after the invasion."

Daryl sighed and shook his head. "That's what they're calling it?"

Connor nodded. "What would you call it?"

"Revenge." He replied, looking over at Connor with unfaltering eyes. "And we ain't done yet."

Connor wasn't sure what to say to that. If he just stook there listening to their plans, he could be considered a traitor as well, harboring information that was extremely important. So why didn't he feel like he was doing something wrong?

"Lost my brother for awhile too." Daryl said, the image of that rooftop back in Atlanta coming back to him again. That hand severed and just laying there.

"He come looking for you?"

"Nah, accident really. You're Governor pitted us against each other."

Connor looked up at him with a little surprise but he didn't say anything. Was he still in denial?

The prison finally came into view and they all stopped to ready their weapons. Daryl set the arrow and looked over at Connor again. "I found him, just the same as you'll find your brother. I'm sure of it." He nodded with assurance before he led the way towards the gates of the prison.  
They took out several walkers, merely clearing the way to where Merle was waiting to open the gates for them. Andrea slashed through one of the walkers, the hatchet lodging through its brain. Maggie fired three bullets taking out three walkers. Connor drew out his own hatchet, digging the blade right through one head and then another. The blood sprayed up onto the sleeves of his coat, caressing over his tattoo, he sighed as he wiped it off. Daryl took to using his knife after losing a couple of arrows on nearby walkers. He cursed at the loss before plunging the knife deep into a walkers eye and straight up another's neck.

Merle tore open the gates and shouted them in before locking it back up again.

"Glad we saved your ass princess?" Merle asked of Connor, that smug smile on his face.

"Merle, get back inside." Daryl ordered, looking back at Connor apologetically.

Connor watched Merle go inside with reluctance and noticed the bond between the two brothers and yet also the intense strain. There was a world of burdens between them, anyone could pick up on it just by watching the two of them interact.

Rick came out of the prison, his hands on his hips as he stopped and looked over Connor and Andrea.

"You two alright?" He asked, checking for any serious wounds.

"Yeah, yeah we are." Connor replied, gaining a nod of approval from Andrea.

"Good. We got a car here for you but we have one term."

Andrea sighed and looked down. She was so tired of what the world had come to and Connor couldn't quite blame her. He also knew though that he couldn't bring himself to blame this small group either. Giving over one of their cars was giving over an asset and that was something that wouldn't sit right with a lot of people.

"What are they?" Andrea finally asked, looking up at Rick.

"You never come back here." Rick firmly replied, his brows tensing together and his jaw firmly set.

"What?" She questioned, dragging her eyes to Maggie and then to Daryl.

"Unless you're coming back for good." He stated, finishing off his terms without any room for argument. "The car's right over there." He gestured towards a car that was parked nearby. "It's fully gassed, cleaned up, runs great."

"Rick..." Daryl grabbed his attention and went over to him, telling him something low in his ear.

Rick nodded. "That's alright." He said before Daryl went on back into the prison.

"Can you spare it?" She asked, looking at the car and then again to Rick. She wasn't angry about this but she was upset.  
"I can."

She nodded and Daryl came back out. He was carrying two ammo boxes in his hands.

"Twenty shots a box." He said once he handed one box to both Connor and Andrea. "Make 'em count." He nodded to Connor before moving back and taking his place beside Rick again.

"Better get a move on, don't wanna lose the light." Rick said, his face unmoved by anything he saw.

Andrea was looking at him with almost a plea. She wanted this all sorted now but did the problem really lie here at the prison?

"Thank you." She whispered taking the keys that he now held out to her and handed them to Connor.

No one followed them to the car. Connor got into the driver's seat and Andrea got into the passengers side. He pulled out of the prison yard and through the gate that Daryl held open.

He looked up at him, meeting those eyes that were so remarkably like his brother's he couldn't quite believe it. You never come back here. That was supposed to be easier to accept than it suddenly was.

They drove down the dirt road without saying a word. He could feel the thickness of Andrea's emotions swirling throughout the car. He knew that she wanted to break again but how could anyone be expected to break twice in one day?

"You do what you wanted?" He asked, breaking the silence that surrounded them once they were back on the open road.

She seemed to be thinking about it for a moment before she shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

"What did you want to do?"

She shrugged and sighed. "Is it stupid to say that I don't even know?"

"Not at all. We were all born with indecisiveness, I think." He smiled a little in an attempt to make her feel better. He hated seeing those blue eyes glisten with so many painful emotions. He thought of the way she had clutched onto him when she had been crying earlier and he tried not to think of good it had felt to have her in his arms. Perhaps that was the betrayal he knew he was making.

Andrea belonged to the Governor. When did anyone start belonging to anybody? He glanced out the window and pushed his free hand back through his hair. Perhaps when the dead started walking.

He was being ridiculous. He knew something wasn't right. He could feel that sharply inside of him. He needed time to figure all this out. He wasn't even sure if he would be able to, especially not on his own. But who would help him when he had no friends?

He looked over at Andrea, meeting her eyes briefly before he looked back out at the road again. Perhaps he did and a part of him was just reluctant to accept it. Not without Murphy. He didn't want to live without Murphy. He wasn't supposed to. It had always been him and his brother so why was it like this now? Why was everything torn apart? Maybe that was why he was so damn reluctant.

Woodbury came into view once night had fallen. He and Andrea had barely said a thing for the rest of the drive. They came to the gates and immediately were ordered to get out of their car, the flood lights were on them and guns were raised.

Connor's brows tensed as he looked over at Andrea. "What's this?

"Guess the town's on lockdown." She replied as she opened her car door.

He followed suit and they both got out, raising their hands above their heads. They watched them atop the wall, their eyes studying them both below. These unskilled soldiers the Governor had recruited. What were they headed towards?

"It's Andrea!" One of them yelled.

"And the Irishman!" Another called out.

The gates opened them and they were allowed back into their car. They drove into town, killing the engine just as the gates began to close again.  
"Governor wants to see you Connnor." Martinez said, looking at him like he hadn't wanted him to come back.

"I'll go with you." Andrea said, lightly touching her hand to his arm.

He shook his head. "I can deal with this on my own." He replied with a nod.

She looked unsure but let him go anyway. Sometime tonight she would be called to talk to the Governor but Connor figured it was better if he went in first, smoothed things down, tried to work on convincing him.

He walked the length of the sidewalk towards the Governor's apartments and climbed the stairs up to his door. He knocked and there was a lowered "come in" from the otherside. He could hear music, melancholic, painful.

He went inside, looking down at the Governor where he was sitting in his chair. He met Connor's eyes, the darkness making him a more sinister figure as he switched off the music. He could see the things the group at the prison had said being true as he sat there and looked up at him. A trick of the dark maybe?  
"You asked for me?" Connor spoke up. He could feel himself tensing up.

"I did." He rose from his chair and looked down at Connor. His massive height adding to his sudden shadowy figure.

Neither of them spoke for awhile and there was a look of knowing in the Governor's remaining eye. Connor felt a strain pulling in his throat, he wanted to ask what for, he wanted to just walk off but for some reason he was a bit scared. He hadn't had an easy day and this awkward moment only added more to it.  
"Needed you to show me that picture of your brother again." The Governor finally spoke, his drawl thick and pronounced.

Connor was surprised. He would have thought that he would mention the prison, the "run" they had gone on but he hadn't. His brother?

He pulled out the picture and handed it to him. He studied it, his eye looking over the detail of his brother's face. Connor remembered the picture well, he had memorized every detail in his mind. It had been a short while after they had left their dad and Ireland, they had been sailing back to Boston, hoping they had got there in time before everything spiraled out of control. Murph had his arm draped over Connor's shoulder and was smiling that clumsy smile he owned so well. Those were the days, the ones he had used to live for. He stretched his fingers. He had killed his whole life. First criminals and now the undead. Was there a moment he would get without all that blood?

The Governor nodded and handed it back before he went to sit down again. "You can go." He said without so much as looking at him.

"Why'd you need to see it? Have you seen him?" Connor questioned, the picture in his hands.

He shook his head. "If I had I would have told you. That was our deal, right?"

"Right. Our deal." Connor nodded and made his way back to the door.

"Oh Connor?" The Governor called out making Connor turn back around. "Next time you decide to take Andrea out of these walls without my permission, I will have you killed."

Connor wanted to say something but he had turned the music on and had sank back in his chair. He wasn't giving him anytime to reply and so Connor walked out. A nervous and rigid mess. What exactly had he gotten himself into?


	6. Chapter 6

He looked down at the town of Woodbury and just tried to clear everything up in his mind. It was seemingly so peaceful here, the sun shone down on the tops of buildings and danced along the streets. Just like any other town except for that wall that separated this place from the nightmare outside. Reminded him of so many movies he had seen, big walls and dominating leaders usually meant big trouble.

He sighed and took another drag off his cigarette. He knew life wasn't like no damn movie, Murph had often told him that whenever he brought one up during their planning, but there was always a bit of truth in them he figured. He just hated that thought now as he watched the veil slowly descend from his eyes. This place wasn't what it seemed to be, he knew that even if he didn't want to. Sure he hated knowing it but what else could he do?

He still get his meeting with the Governor out of his head. He had wanted to see the picture again and for what? He knew he had taken Andrea outside of the walls. Things were getting complicated in such a short amount of time. Connor had only been in Woodbury a short while, directly after Daryl and Merle had escaped. Everything had spiraled downward so quickly from there.

He wondered how many people he saw walk by him today knew about the things that were silently brewing around them. Were some of them oblivious? The ones who still tended their gardens and breast fed their babies? Even though it could all be destroyed at the drop of a hat? Or maybe he had just lost faith. Not everything died. Peace couldn't die and neither could faith. He had to grasp a little harder. His brother would laugh at him now. Connor had always been the one telling him that he had to believe and look at him now.

A shadow fell over him and when he looked up he saw Andrea standing over him. Her eyes were incredibly sad and conflicted and her lips were pressed together.

"Are you okay?" He asked, gesturing for her to sit next to him as he stomped out his cigarette.

She sighed and took the place next to him, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "I don't know anymore." She whispered, looking out at the same town he had just been studying.  
Connor didn't know what to say because her struggles were so raw, so fragile. He understood the dilemma she was in, the tense atmosphere she was being sucked into. She had been so clueless, perhaps even a little blinded by the hope this place promised. Didn't she know that things weren't as easy as that?

"You think all this will last?" He asked, looking down at her.

She lightly shrugged. "I wish it would."

"Don't we all..." He stretched his legs out and leaned back on his hands. His sunglasses shielded his eyes from the blare of the sun as he looked upwards. All he needed was some kind of word and then he would act.

"I almost killed him last night..." Andrea forced out, unable to look at him once she had spoken.

He lowered his eyes back down to her and furrowed his brows. "The Governor?"

She nodded and tucked some of her hair behind her ear. "Carol told me I could end all this, everything. That means peace doesn't it?" She took in a breath and then finally met his eyes.

"But you didn't?" He couldn't quite get over the initial shock of her confession. He would never have expected something like that from her.

She shook her head. "I don't know if that's weakness or strength." The dance of her eyes, the glaze that began to fill them echoed with her honest and true feelings for this man who had proven to be the downfall for so many people she cared about.

"It's hard to tell." He looked away from her and merely stared ahead of himself. He thought of the force that came with the pulling of the trigger, the way you suddenly felt weightless when the bullet was released. It had always felt so right. The prayer, the criminals, the pennies on the eyes, Murphy at his side and the calling from God. But these days how did one tell the good from the bad? How did one know which was the rapist and which was the victim? The lines had blurred and he wasn't sure how exactly he wsa supposed to make them clear.

"What am I going to do Connor? I'm scared." She confessed it with such ease it surprised him. She was looking at him for answers, those blue eyes defeated and at a crossroads.

He reached his hand out and gently placed it on her back. She didn't tense at his touch instead she sank into it. The comfort the only one she had now.

The sound of footsteps approaching them and a shadow falling upon them stole their attention. Connor grew rigid when he saw The Governor standing there, his hands on his hips and a small smile on his lips.

"Phillip..." Andrea greeted without any happiness to see him.

"You two seem cozy." He remarked and immediately they pulled from each other. "So you took her to the prison..."

Connor looked to Andrea and she nodded to tell him that Phillip knew. He dragged his eyes to him without a response.

"I thought I could trust you? We had a deal."

Connor felt his chain being pulled in every which way. Nothing felt easy as he sat there, uncertainty creating a harsh glare inside of him.

"Sorry.." He muttered.

"Don't be because I want you both to go back."

"What?" Andrea demanded, shock filling her features. "What for?"

"You said you came back, you belong here, you've both done enough to earn that place. I've accepted you here and now I'm asking for a favor."

"I'm not killing anyone." Andrea defended, rising up and looking up at him.

He backed off with a lift of his hands as if in surrender. "I'm not asking for that. What do you take me for? A murderer?" He glanced down at Connor with a bit of dark knowing in his eyes before he looked back to her. "I need to know what they're planning. This Rick isn't just sitting by, I know."

"You want us to spy? On my friends?"

"On my enemies." He corrected sharply.

"We'll do it." Connor stood up as well, lightly touching the back of Andrea's arm hoping that she would go with it.

He smiled at Connor as if he was satisfied. "Maybe I was wrong about you...Andrea?"

She looked up at Connor at a loss for words but she received a look from him that she had dreaded. The look that said for her to go along with it.

"Okay." She said with a simply nod of her head.  
"Good. You leave today. Martinez has a car ready for you both. Good luck." He smiled at them but there was something playing in his eyes that Connor couldn't exactly trust. He made to walk away but looked back at them. "Oh and be careful. I hear that Rick is unstable."

Connor could just imagine him laughing to himself as he walked away and he shook his head before he looked back to Andrea.

"What are you thinking? I can't do this." She declared up at him, appalled at his decision.

He gestured his hands for her to calm down and to quiet. "Andrea, you needed to know what to do, I needed some kind of sign, this could be it."

"A sign?"

"Just trust me. Can you do that?" He was silently pleading with her, he knew how stupid this sounded but it was his plan and he trusted it would work. He stopped himself for a moment, almost retracting his decision. Plans, they never turned out well. They hadn't gone too well for him and his brother. This was different though, it had to be.

She sighed and then nodded. "As long as no one gets hurt."

Connor smiled a little. "As if I'd allow that...now come on." He nudged her with him and they walked on towards the gates.

Martinez was looking at them with a smirk on his face. He had a gun in his hands and was standing next to the car the Governor had ordered ready.

"Going on another field trip?" He asked.

Connor didn't want to answer, he simply opened the driver's door and looked inside at what they had to sustain them out on the road. He was content to find a bit of food and good enough weapons.

"I can't really blame Irish here, ain't fair that the Governor keeps you all to himself." One of the other men said from behind Martinez causing both men to laugh.

Connor turned around sharply when he heard that. He charged at the guy, taking him by the collar and shoving him up against the wall of the gate.

"What the hell did you just say?" He yelled out, his anger sharpening his eyes. "Were you talking about her?"

"Hey let him go!" Martinez ordered, lifting his gun and pressing the barrel to the back of Connor's head. "No one will miss you." He sneered.

The man was scared as Connor dug his forearm closer and closer into his neck. He was losing air and Connor's anger had taken over. The thought of what this bastard would do to Andrea were she alone here pissed him off.

"Connor please, let's just go." Andrea said from beside him, her hand softly touching to his arm to get his attention.

He didn't look at her but he heard her words. He looked back at the guy and went closer down to his ear. "You're lucky but next time I'll kill you, slowly and enjoy every single moment of it."  
He pushed at the man before releasing him and Martinez lowered his gun.

"Let's go." Connor ordered before getting into the car.

Andrea looked between the man and Martinez before following Connor into the car. They waited silently for the gates to open. Connor pulled out with a rev of the engine and tore out of Woodbury. They drove that way for several minutes, the morning air filling the car through the opened window on Connor's side. He didn't risk looking at her and knowing that she was angry with him. He wasn't sure if she would be but his behavior would warrant it he figured.

Finally as Woodbury became nothing but a distant thought Andrea glanced at Connor. His profile stern and in thought. She could see the tight grip he had on the wheel loosening and his jaw relaxing. She had been a bit shocked at his outburst of anger, the tattoos he had visible evidence to his religious beliefs. But a part of her had been glad that he had gone up for her, taking the burden off her shoulders of having to fight all the time.

She let herself wonder about the man he was before all this. Before he had lost his brother, before the walkers took dominance. She could see him as a hardworking man, definitely not married and extremely dependent on faith. But what was it about him that was a little dark? Just a little bit unsettling? It had been the lack of hesitance in his gaze, the lack of sympathy as he looked into the man's eyes and pressed his arm further against his throat. There had been an ease there and a chill went up her spine as she dwelt on it. It was as if he had done it before.

"Rick said not to come back unless we were staying for good. What do we tell him?' Connor finally spoke, throwing everything that had happened back in Woodbury out the window just for awhile.

Andrea's thoughts were broken as she turned her eyes away from him. "The truth."

"The truth?" He questioned, looking at her with knitted brows.

She nodded.

"And what's that?"

"That we're staying for good."

"Are you sure about that? You haven't had much time to think and we don't even know if any of it is true...what about Phillip?" He took to using the man's name in order to draw out a reaction from her, a falter to show that she wasn't entirely serious.

She shook her head. "I know what he's planning Connor and they...all of them, they're my family. We're staying for good. I can't go back there, not after everything. Can you?"

He glanced at her before looking back at the road. He saw that she wanted him to agree with her but how could he? The Governor had promised to help him find his brother. He wasn't even entirely sure about the people at the prison and if they were telling the truth about Woodbury.  
He glanced down at the tattoo on his hand and let out a quiet sigh. What the hell was the truth and where would he finally find all the answers?

You wanted a sign, Connor, you wanted a sign. Yeah, but how did he know if it was the right one?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Some Conaryl! So happy. Really wanted to establish something. Thanks to everyone reading and viewing! Muah! Love you!

"What are you two doing here?" Rick demanded, his face tense and expressing no room for crap anymore.

Connor looked to Andrea and tried to dismiss the hostile feeling he was getting. He had never met a group of people so on edge. It had to be true, everything they had said about the Governor, about the attacks. No one was naturally this paranoid.

"You want the truth?" Connor asked, receiving something of a glare from Andrea. He was well aware that there were armed people behind him who saw him as a total threat.

"Nothing more." Rick nodded, his hands went to his hips, his fingers teasing with the silver of his revolver.

"The Governor wanted us to come back here. Wanted us to do a little spying, you could say."

Rick seemed just a little taken aback by the words. "Spy? And you agreed?" He shot the question at Andrea.

"'Course we did, had to save our asses, didn't we? And yours as well."

"Ours?"

"Absolutely. The Governor doesn't think you are all innocent babes out here in this prison, thinks you have a few cards up your sleeve. Wants me to lead the lamb to the slaughter."

"And how's any of this about saving us?" Maggie questioned, her eyes going between Connor and Andrea.

"We want to stay. I can't go back there, not after everything." Andrea spoke up, her voice low and pleading.

Rick was eyeing her, seeing if he could see the truth simply on the surface. This guy had to have had trust issues before all this end of the world stuff, the way he was so closed off, so unreachable was almost threatening.

"And how do we know this isn't a trick?"

Connor sighed. How the hell were him and Andrea ever going to convince either of these leaders of their intentions?

"Give me something to do and I'll do it. Should be hard enough to prove that it isn't some kind of trick."

Rick stepped back as if he had to think and then he nodded. "I'll have to think about it." He said, his tenseness suddenly easing as he looked into Andrea's pleading eyes.

"Thank you, Rick." She softly said.

Connor couldn't help but feel just a bit of jealousy because these people had been there for her months ago. These people had seen her through so much. He had just come on the scene and her eyes would never soften with as much emotion for him.

"Don't thank me yet." He responded, turning away from her and walking away.

Connor could see the sting that had left on her and he felt it for her as well. He had never been turned away so sharply in his life, he had always been so wholly accepted by his family. By his mother, crazy woman that she was, his brother, and even the people he considered his family back home. The only one he had been unsure of for so long was his father but after they had found him while locked away by Yakavetta he had been accepted by him as well. Even when the world had caught sight of him and his brother as the Saints, for the most part the population had been accepting. He knew that was something a lot of people didn't have and he was so grateful for it. He wondered though if, just for that fact, all this was somehow harder on him. The world had managed to rip away everything that mattered to him, every part of goodness he had ever possessed. This world with all its dead risers roaming with their never ending hunger.

"Where's Michonne?" Andrea asked, looking around the small group that had formed around them upon their arrival.

"Doing some of her crazy stuff outside I'd say." Merle said, his lips showing a smile.

Andrea rolled her eyes and headed out to the prison's yard leaving Connor alone among people he didn't know. He looked each of them in their faces. Maggie, young, beautiful and her boyfriend Glenn, equally young and strong- perhaps to a fault. Carol, a nurturer, and yet perhaps one of the strongest of them all. Hershel, now physically incapable of almost everything but he was invaluable. The boy Carl wasn't around, that one was a ticking bomb, waiting until his body caught up with all the strength brewing in his mind. Beth, sweet, quiet and so completely devoted to the baby she held anyone could see it. Merle stuck out, his arrogant and smug personality obviously irritating for everyone else, he was just here because of Daryl. And then there was Daryl. The man with his brother's face. He couldn't even bring himself to look at the man in fear that he would lose himself and treat him like he treated Murphy. Was it so ridiculous that a part of him wanted to talk to Daryl just until the absence of his brother could be filled once he found Murphy?

"Don't be too scared, he's always like this, even to people he likes." Merle said, laughing a little when he did.

"Don't start." Glenn spoke up, moving away from the gathered group signifying that they could all break up.

"Not scared." Connor replied looking back at Merle.

"Ain't any need to be." Daryl suddenly spoke up, putting his crossbow at his back again once he understood there wasn't a threat.

"Y'gonna start with all that Rick being a good man stuff again, little brother?" Merle asked with a shake of his head.

Both Daryl and Connor ignored Merle. "Y'ever find your brother?" Daryl asked him.

They heard Merle laugh. "If you two are gonna get soft, I'm going outside." He said before disappearing, taking his laugh with him.

Connor looked away from Merle's vacated spot and back to Daryl. He tried not to think of Murphy, tried not to let it cross his mind. This coincidence was about to drive him insane.

He shook his head. "Not yet."

"What happens if he passes through Woodbury and you ain't there? You really think the Governor's gonna direct him on over here?"

Connor thought of it and he knew where Daryl was coming from. Andrea had told him about the arena fight between Merle and Daryl, the declaration of a fight to the death. "I don't know." He said, defeated.

"No he wouldn't. He'd much rather use him as bait to get your ass over there. Stupid move you did there." Daryl wasn't speaking harshly, just trying to instill the thought in his head.

"Yeah, it was." He pushed his hand through his hair and messed it up a bit before letting out a long breath. "Hell, that was stupid."

Daryl couldn't help but laugh at the bemused look on his face. "Should've thought first."

"Yeah, yeah guess you're right." He replied, unable to keep the smile off his lips as well. He couldn't help the feeling of ease that he felt suddenly.

"You came here for Andrea right?"

"What? No." Connor looked at Daryl with a bit of alarm in his eyes. "Why would I do that?"

"Why else you come out here for? Everything's better in Woodbury right?"

Connor shrugged. "It is a bit more supplied, yeah. Can get these whenever I want." He pulled out the pack of cigarettes in had in his coat. "But I guess I figured these weren't worth the price of my soul." Daryl's brows furrowed with just a bit of confusion and again Connor laughed. "A bit of Faust no?" Still the confusion remained on Daryl's face so Connor just waved it off. "Guess I did come out here for Andrea."

Daryl smirked a little and adjusted the crossbow at his back. "Well Andrea's a good woman, even if she did shoot me." He lifted his hand to touch the spot where that bullet had grazed the side of his head.

Shoot you?" He questioned and Daryl nodded his head. "It ain't anything like that." Connor said, shaking his head.

"Whatever you say." And with that Daryl walked away like he had enough of small talk. These were serious and daunting times. He wasn't supposed to brushing it all off for something like this.

Connor watched him walk away and felt something drop a little inside of him. He touched his hand to the picture tucked away inside his coat and sighed. Pretending wasn't going to bring him back, lying to himself wasn't going to ease the loss. And making sudden decisions like leaving Woodbury wasn't going to help this out either.

He could feel himself grow frustrated as he dropped his arms to his sides. What the hell was he going to do now?

He turned at the sound of someone re-entering the cellblock and smiled a little when he saw Andrea. That harsh conflict was still swimming in the blue of her eyes. He wished there was something he could do to make it go away, at least for a moment. Had he really risked everything for a woman? Since when had he been so reckless for the opposite sex?

"How's it feel to be back?" He asked, leaning against the wall as she approached him.

She looked around, her eyes drinking in the stale and depressing surroundings before finally looking back at him. "Like I'm not really back." She whispered. "Like I'm in some kind of dream and I'll wake up in a few moments to find we're all still on the farm." How desperate had they all become that the farm was the most pleasant of her recent memories?

He nodded, accepting it but not pressing it. He didn't know what she meant by a farm but he recognized the pain in her eyes. "And Michonne?"

That was where the conflict had been birthed, he saw that flash in her eyes. What had happened between the two women he didn't know but he saw care between them, a bond. A bond that had been broken.

"She's upset. I wish she could understand me but she can't. She thinks she was victimized." She didn't want to sound bitter because she wasn't. She was upset, mostly with herself for not seeing what Michonne had seen.

"And no idea how you're gonna fix it?"

She shook her head. "None."

He nodded to that figuring it wasn't his position to offer her advice for something so personal. He pulled his pack of cigarettes out again and made to take one out.

"Connor don't..." Andrea said.

"Why?"

"Judith is here."

Heavily he sighed knowing she was right before he tucked the pack away again.

"Thank you." Andrea softly said after awhile, looking up into his eyes with as much sincerity as she felt. "Thank you for coming with me. It means everything." She reached her hand out and lightly touched his arm.

He looked down at her hand that was resting on his forearm. It was true he had never really had a serious relationship before, everything had been strictly physical with him and women but he was sure that the feeling he got from her simply resting her hand on his arm was more than he had ever experienced.

"Andrea, Connor." Rick called out, his son trailing after him along with Daryl.

Both Andrea and Connor turned around at the order of his voice.

"Is something wrong?" Andrea asked, her brows knitting together with worry.

He shook his head. "I know what you have to do."

Connor tried to read his face but got nothing. That face was too full of sorrow to display anything else. He knew what Rick was talking about, what he had to do to instill his place here and judging by the looks on his and Daryl's faces he knew it wasn't going to be good.

"What were you thinking?" He asked, preparing himself for the worst.

"You're going back to Woodbury." Rick replied as if it was the easiest conclusion he could findc  
Connor just stood there unsure what to think. He was a little scared at the thought. What if he never got out alive?


	8. Chapter 8

He stood there waiting for them to open then gates for him. He felt disappointed. He didn't have much ammo, didn't even have a proper clue as to what was going on. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell the Governor about why Andrea wasn't with him or what kind of 'secrets' he was gonna let him know. He had to put his mind to work he supposed. He just didn't want to make things worse than they already were.  
"Y'gonna be alright?" Daryl suddenly asked and there was actual concern eyes. They had softened with it and for w moment Connor saw Murphy. He saw a bit of the lost boy look that Murph owned so well.  
"Course I will be. Nothing's gonna happen to me. Still got stuff I have to do." He remembered one of the sermons he had heard when he, Murph and their Da were hiding out in Ireland. The priest had spoken of knowing when your time was up, knowing when everything you were meant to do had gotten done, that was when one knew their life was gonna end. He had yet to ever get that feeling. Not even now as he stood here waiting to be thrusted back into a hostile situation. He knew he had reason to be scared but he just couldn't bring himself to be.  
Daryl smirked at that and nodded a little. "Sorry 'bout all this by the way…. But Rick, he knows what he's doing. And if anything goes wrong, he'll know what to do." Daryl looked almost unsure as he spoke. It was almost like he had only started to care about things now and was having a difficult time sorting through it.  
There was another thing that was so different between Daryl and Murphy. Daryl seemed so pent up, locked away, it seemed, from the outside world. Murphy on the other hand was one of the most expressive people he knew. Everything he felt came out easily. His anger, his love. Too many differences and Connor hated it.  
"Sounds promising." He replied, smiling a little at his own words.  
"Hey little brother, you wanna give him a goodbye kiss too?" Merle was looking up at them from beneath his blond brows, his fingers smoothing over the sharp side of the blade he had managed to hook to his hand.  
"Shut up." Daryl muttered, moving away from the doorway where Connor was. He was tense whenever Merle was around. Good brother, bad brother it seemed.  
Connor watched Daryl turn around and walk away, Merle's watching eyes following him until he was completely gone.  
"Things always this quiet around here?" Connor asked, looking to Merle. There was something about this man he didn't like. Something threatening that made sure he wasn't one to be trusted.  
"Oh yeah…sure seems like everyone has their panties in a bunch here. So different from Woodbury, huh?"  
Connor nodded. "Yeah, guess so."  
"If you stay here, y'gonna miss it back there?  
Connor hadn't given himself the time to think about that. He took in a breath and tried to decide on something. Was it really right to miss a place like that?  
He looked up at Merle with a bit of question in his eyes. "Do you? Miss it?"  
Merle shrugged. "Maybe…Warm showers, beds, the chance to walk around without the Governor's gun at your neck…what's there not to love?" He chuckled lightly.  
"You wouldn't go back?" Why was he asking? He knew that he wanted to leave Woodbury, knew that the choice he had made with Andrea had been the right one. But what Daryl had said had struck him hard.  
It was true. What if Murphy was back at Woodbury? Waiting for him to come back?  
"I wouldn't. He tried to kill me and Daryl. The only reason I'd ever go back is to kill that bastard." Merle's voice grew harsher and his glare had deepened. "You best give up hope on your brother while you can."  
Connor stared at him, his brows furrowing. He hated the dark hopelessness in Merle's voice, the lost sound of his tone. "Why do you say that?"  
"He ever gets wind of what happened here today…he hears that you've sided with Rick's little gang here, he'll have your head. And Murphy's too."  
"Not if I don't let that happen." Connor stated with a light shake of his head.  
Merle smiled. "Boy you are bold. But you listen here's, the Governor doesn't just sit still and watch a traitor go unpunished."  
"Well you should know."  
"So I should." Merle nodded, a trace of a laugh on his lips.  
"Are you ready?" Rick came close to them, breaking their talking up.  
Connor nodded.  
Rick handed Connor the keys. "Thank you…." He said, his voice strained. He seemed to be nervous about this whole thing. He was looking at Connor with a quiet apprehension. He wasn't sure about allowing any of this.  
"Don't worry so much, Rick. Connor here says he won't let anything happen." Merle let out a laugh but no one paid him any attention.  
Rick pulled open the door and let Connor out. He stayed where he was, watching the sun best down on the black of Connor's coat. Connor turned back at the people watching him from inside the cellblock. Carl's questioning eyes, Daryl with a sort of conflict brewing in his gaze and Rick with uncertainty in his. He didn't know how to feel himself because he wasn't even sure what would happen to him since he set foot again in Woodbury. The Governor didn't trust him already, not after what had happened with Andrea.  
He made his way to the car that they had let him park behind the prison gates and he met Andrea there.  
"Be careful." She swiftly said. Her eyes were sad as they looked up at him.  
He tried to manage a smile but a thought prevented him. The thought that this might be the last time he saw her. This place and Woodbury were worlds apart and with all that distance it felt like they were almost already lost to each other.  
"I'll be careful, no worries."  
She held his eyes, listening to the thick of his Irish accent, and she gave him a nod. "No worries." She was the one who managed a smile and Connor couldn't but wonder if that was strength on her part.  
He reached out, as if he was reaching past the boundaries that had been set there between them but things other than each other, and lightly touched her arm. "I'll see you soon." He let go of her and made to go to the car.  
"Connor!" Daryl came out, his hand holding the strap of his crossbow. "Here." He handed Connor two boxes of ammo.  
Connor looked up at him and gave a grateful smile. It was like Daryl was telling him to come back safe. He had to wonder if he was doing this because he truly was concerned or if he simply knew that with his brother's face it would calm Connor's soul if he showed that kind of concern.  
"Thanks."  
Daryl gave him a simple nod before he moved back into the prison.  
Connor caught the glare that Merle was giving him and he returned it. He already didn't like Merle, there was something about the guy that screamed all kinds of trouble. It was like he belonged over at Woodbury.  
"You might wanna check somewhere in Milton's lab. Y'never know what you'll find." Merle offered a thin smile and let a flash fill his eyes that said he knew more than he was letting on.  
Connor's brows furrowed before he pulled himself out of it and got into the car. He didn't look up at Andrea or look to see Daryl. He simply pulled away from the prison and drove away. All the while trying to come up with reasons why Merle would tell him something like that. What the hell did Milton keep in his lab?


	9. 9

He drove up into Woodbury, his nerves rising higher than he needed them to be. He was too strung out, afraid that the Governor would notice and try to get to the bottom of this. If what Ricks group had said was true the man didn't mind a little torture. He could have easily brushed it off, saying he'd been there before. He'd seen Rocco die, had seen his da die, had even hurt his damn self in many situations but this was different.

He had never been good at keeping secrets, not even as a little kid. Murph had always been the mischievous one, able to grin his way through a lie but he, on the other hand, was a different story. This was no stealing bread from ma's cabinet though, this was Woodbury and lives on the line.

They let him in through the gate and he stepped out of the car. Martinez came up beside him but the man who had shot his mouth off to Andrea kept his distance.

"You come back alone, Irish?" He asked Connor, checking inside the car.

"Seems that way, don't it?"

"Well where's Andrea?"

Connor shrugged a little. "None of your business." He muttered, moving away from the car and walking down the streets. 

He knew where he would find the Governor and he knew what he was gonna say. Andrea was staying inside the prison for intel, to find loopholes in their defense and then would report back. He hoped something like that would be easy enough to believe. He wanted to get out of his apartments quickly. He had the thought to check in on Milton's lab. There had to be a reason why Merle would bring it up.

He reached the Governor's apartment and lightly knocked. A part of him hoped that he wasn't in, that maybe some business had pulled him away but he wasn't gonna test his luck. He wasn't even gonna hope for it. Things weren't going his way lately anyways.

The door opened and he stood there with a small smirk on his face. Connor swallowed down harshly and tried to look him in the eye. 

"Your back. And you didn't bring Andrea back with you."

Connor was about to ask how he knew but he saw that the window inside was open and that he would have a good view of the gate.

"Wanted to talk to you about that." He replied as calmly as he could. Never knew he would be this bad at it.

"She's gonna keep herself on the inside, am I right? Get their plans and strategies?" There was a smile inching its way onto his lips. 

"Yeah, exactly that."

"Only one problem with that."

"What's that?" He questioned, shifting himself with his inner nerves.

"How's she gonna deliver any of that information? There's no way of communication. So how does she think to get that over here to me?"

Connor just stated up at the man, his height towering over him. He was standing there, seemingly unmoveable. "Guess she just wasn't thinking."

"Or she left..." the Governor left the doorway, going back inside the apartment but leaving the door open.

Connor stepped inside cautiously. He wasn't sure if that had been an invitation but he had taken it anyway, the heat was a bit unbearable.

"Left? Why would she do that?"

Connor watched him pour himself a drink and lean onto the counter. "I don't know..." He drawled out. "...Y'tell me."

"She wanted to keep an eye on things, all it is. She wouldn't leave."

The Governor smiled at that. "'Cause she loves me?"

Connor adjusted his coat about himself and gave him a nod. "Guess that's just it."

"Well aren't I the lucky one?" He swirled the drink in his glass before taking a sip. "Guess that lets you off the hook then."

Connor offered a smile and moved out of the apartment. "I'll be on my way then."

"Oh Connor, one more thing."

"What's that?"

"If she decides to stay there, I'm gonna need to ask you a favor."

"Anything."

"If she sides with this Rick over at the prison, well then I'm gonna need you to be the one to kill her."

Connor just stared at him, unsure of what else to say. "I'm sure it won't have to come down to that."

"Better not." He replied before taking his glass and turning away.

Connor stood there a moment, unsure if he was going to go first. He turned out of the door after awhile and closed it, jogging down the stairs and leaving the building.

The sun hit Connor's eyes harshly and he pulled his sunglasses out to cover them. He looked about himself, making sure no one was watching. In the crowd on the streets, he was sure that no one was even paying attention. He walked casually down the sidewalk, his hands stuffed deep into his coat until he reached the end of the town. He looked up at the building that everyone knew was off limits. Milton's lab.

Heavily he sighed and walked towards te back, figuring using the front would get him into all sorts of trouble.

It was quiet back there which made it all the more unsettling. He pulled open the back door slowly, hating the low creak it sang out. Slipping inside he took a deep breath and drew out one of his guns. He listened closely, trying to hear if anyone was inside. He couldn't hear a thing. He conjured up a bit of bravery he was sure he had before and pressed on.

He had to admit it, he was scared. What Merle had said was enough to scare the hell out of him. Did this have to do with Murphy? Or maybe it was just some stupid threat to go along with the threats he kept shooting his mouth off with. Something inside told him it wasn't just a threat. Something inside told him he was heading straight into something that would ruin everything. But he pushed it down. What happened to having a bit of faith?

He walked onward, the gun in his hand until he found himself surrounded by the actual lab. He looked at the things strewn about on tables. Notes, syringes, different medical tools, tea bags. Nothing that a man like himself would know much about. All he knew was the gun in his hand, the faith in his heart and the need to find his damn brother.

He stopped when he found a row of operating tables at the far end of the room. There were bodies laying on them, white blankets lifted up over their faces.

Harshly he swallowed down any dark feeling and pulled one of the blankets off. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he looked down at a dead walker. His hand started shaking as he reached out and pulled off the blanket of another. A headless soldier it seemed, all clothed in his fatigues. 

"C'mon, don't be here Murph." He muttered as he pulled off another blanket and looked down at an unfamiliar female face.

There were two more and he could feel his heart leaping up manically, causing his head to spin a little. He placed one of his hands on top of the second to the last bodies and closed his eyes. Slowly and without looking he pulled back the blanket. An old man, turned, stabbed it seemed.

His eyes drifted to the last body and his heart fell straight down. He took a hard swallow and stepped closer, gripping the edges of the blanket.

It ain't him. It couldn't be Murphy. He couldn't have been locked up in this room while Connor was living about in the town outside. He would have felt it if Murphy had died, if Murphy had been killed somewhere without him. But didn't that explain the hole that just kept growing wider inside of him? Didn't that explain that darkness he had sank into? No it didn't. It couldn't.

He made to bring the blanket down but halted when he heard the door to the lab open. He froze, quietly sliding down until he was sitting against the wall.

"So she's back at the prison?" Milton asked.

"That's what Connor said."

"Do you belive him?"

"I honestly do. It was never really him who I blamed, it's her. She's persuasive."

"You really think that she won't come back?"

"She might come back but even if she does, my eye's on her. She's with them. Always has been I think. Just like Merle." There was the hint of drink in his voice.

"So what happens now? What are you planning?"

Connor heard the Governor laugh a little.

"What I've been planning this whole time."

"And what's that?" Was that nervousness in Milton's voice? Was it fear and uncertainty?

"Do you have anymore of that tea?" He asked of Milton and there was a bit of a shuffle among the things on the table.

"Of course." 

Connor let his eyes close as he tried to will himself to not even breathe. Sitting here in fear of getting caught was making his heart race. This whole damn thing was nearly enough to give him a heart attack. 

"Here you go."

The Governor took the cup and drank from it with a relieved sigh.

Connor shifted and felt how leg hit the operating table where the last body was. He cupped his hands over his mouth and listened to the two men hoping that they hadn't heard. Thankfully they hadn't.

"Phillip, you didn't answer my question."

Again he laughed. "I don't really remember it."

"What are you planning?"

"To wipe 'em out. All of 'em."

He heard Milton take in a breath and heard the Governor laugh. 

"Is that smart?"

"Is it smart to keep 'em at our doorstep with rifles and more survival training than any of our men? We have to hit 'em when they're most unaware, that way our men will overcome 'em. Easy enough."

"I guess so." Milton agreed although with hesitation.

"Now enough of this. Show me your progress." 

Connor heard them going over some notes and he let his eyes travel up to the last covered body. It took everything in him not to scream, not to reach up and take the body off that cold steel table. The tears sprang to his eyes and his heart crushed inside. He kept his silent composure, not wanting death this way. He felt his breath run out, felt everything inside go dark, go cold. 

When Connor's leg had shifted, hitting the table the body had moved as well. And all Connor could see was the dangling cross of Murphy's rosary.


	10. 10

He reached his hand out, his fingers touching to the beads that were hanging there. The cross glinted in the dim light of the lab. Tears were slipping from his eyes and his head was a mess. Everything felt dark and the agony that weighted him down was torturous. He wanted to scream and his breath was coming out ragged. The fear that he was never going to find Murphy became a reality and nothing else made sense.

His brother. The one last person that mattered to him. The part of himself he couldn't live without. He was laying beneath that sheet, his body dead as was his mind. Had they been able to sort out what had happened before they had lost each other? Had he been able to tell his brother that loved him? The end of the world had come and it had ripped away everything that mattered, everything that meant something.

He braved parting his lips to let out a stream of breath that had been sucked in for too long. He closed his eyes trying to regain himself, trying to settle into his usually ordered composure. He was getting weaker, his strength was failing him and he was almost ready to pass out. 

The room went quiet, there wasn't any talking. Milton and the Governor had left and he was alone. Him and his brother were alone.

Shakily he stood up, his eyes on the rosary that was hanging from the body beneath the blanket. He reached out his hand, trying to grip onto the blanket but abruptly he was pulled away. A cry escaped his lips as he was dragged backwards, an arm tight around his throat. His eyes were blurred, the table so far from him now. He reached his hands out but it felt like he was miles away from it.

"Get off of me!" He shouted, clawing at the arm that was tight around his neck. His legs were kicking but seeing Murphy there before him had weakened him, making hi strength disappear. 

"How does it feel to be betrayed?" The Governor hissed out, his voice dark as it spoke into his ear.

Connor could feel fear twist inside him, dizzying him to the breaking point. He still clawed at the arm around him, at the force of the man behind him. His eyes were still on Murphy. Damn it why didn't he wake up?

The Governor pushed at him making him fall on the group with a huff of pain. His boots sounded loudly on the ground as he approached him. Connor tried to get up on his knees, his hand reaching out to steady himself. The Governor wouldn't have any of it, his fist shot out, catching Connor's face. He fell back, the ache strong on the side of his face but in spite of it he tried to get up again.

"You don't know how to give up, do you?" He asked down at Connor, a smile hinting in his voice. He kicked at Connor making him fall again and taking his breath.

"What the hell are you doing?" Connor demanded, his eyes angry as he tried to gather up his strength to face the man hovering over him.

The Governor knelt down beside Connor, taking his hair in his hand and lifting his head. "I thought we were clear? I don't like betrayal. It happened already with Merle, I don't need it happening again." His voice was dripping with his anger and the satisfaction he was getting from the pain he was inflicting Connor with.

"I didn't betray you!" He shouted through the blood that was dripping from his nose.

"You think I don't see how you look at Andrea? You think I don't know what a man would do for a woman?" He sneered his words and then let out a smile. "You really think that group at the prison has a shot fighting me? They'll die soon enough and maybe you're just better off dying here." 

"I ain't for them! I just want to find my brother." He felt himself recovering from the kick he had taken to the stomach. He reached his hand out and grabbed at The Governor's hand that was gripping his hair. 

The Governor caught the movement though before he could do a thing. He dropped Connor's head down, slamming his face into the ground. Connor let out a gasp as he felt something split and blood began to pour out. 

"You think that's your brother?" He asked, his hands on his hips as he stared down at him.

"If you killed him-"

"You'll what? Kill me?" He laughed a little again. "I don't think you'll be able to do that."

Harshly he took Connor up by his shoulders and made him to stand. He dragged him towards the table and pulled off the blanket. Connor almost looked away but his eyes widened with disbelief.

It wasn't Murphy at all. It was some kid, young, broken, turned. But it was his rosary hanging from his neck. 

Connor let out a scream as he turned towards the Governor grabbing at him. He just laughed and shoved Connor away making him fall to the ground. He kicked at him, his smile steady and menacing. 

"Martinez, get in here."

The doors opened and Martinez came in with another man. Connor began to rise slowly as he tried to wipe the blood from his face, trying to ignore the pain in his face.

"Take him to a cell." The Governor ordered as he stepped away.

Martinez walked to Connor a smirk on his face. He reached down, taking him up by his arms. The other man came on his other side, taking some of the weight and together they pulled him out.

 

The restraints were tight on his wrists and his face hurt like hell. He was thinking of a million ways to get out of the problem he was in. It must have been when he had gotten slammed onto the ground though because his head was throbbing and he couldn't quite think straight.

He looked about the room. It was some sort of storage room. Things were strewn about, a mess. He was sitting in a chair, leather restraints on his wrists. Each time he tried to pull it them a pain shot through him. He'd been through worse, that 's what he told himself repetitively. But he had been through worse with Murphy. That wasn't the same. He couldn't get out of this, not with the pain he was feeling and the hopelessness as well.

Was he somewhat disappointed that it hadn't been Murphy he had found? That only meant that he still wasn't sure where his brother was, he was still lost to him. But there was relief growing inside that it hadn't been him. He was still alive, no doubt searching for him. But how had they gotten his rosary? 

The possibilities twisted in his mind and each one became darker. He didn't want to think about it, he didn't want feel any of it. It was too much, too heavy, too sorrowed.

The door opened and Connor looked up. The light hit his eyes and he had turn away. He was afraid that it was going to be The Governor but when he checked he nearly breathed out a sigh of relief. It was only Milton.

"He send you here to kill me?" Connor asked, his voice thick with the pain he was feeling.

Milton shook his head. "He doesn't know I'm here."

Connor furrowed his brows. "Disobeying orders?"

"I just didn't receive any." He replied.

Connor made to laugh but his face hurt too much. 

"Then what the hell do y'want?"

Milton came closer like he was inspection the damage on Connor's face then he moved back a little, concern in his eyes. "I have to tell you something?"

"Gonna throw me into the ring? Is that it? That's what he's planning?" 

Milton shook his head again. "No. It's nothing about Phillip, nothing about any of that."

"Then what the hell is it?" Connor demanded. He wondered if it was fair to direct his anger towards Milton when he hadn't taken part in what had happened earlier. But he was apart of this whole damn town and just for that he found him guilty enough.

"It's about your brother. Murphy." 

Connor's eyes widened at Milton's words and everything inside of him fell apart. He was being genuine, he wasn't lying. Connor could see that there was truth in his eyes. But what would Milton know about Murphy?

"What about him?" He asked, struggling again at the restraints on his arms.

"He is here. That's how he has his rosary." 

At those words Connor couldn't help but lose it. He knew how he was sitting here, trapped to their mercy. What would they be doing to Murphy? How long had he been here? 

"Where the hell is he?" He seethed out, all the while struggling to get out.

"He's been bitten."

Milton's words sounded so simple, so easy but all they did was tear Connor's being apart. He stared at Milton, his eyes strained and his breath stopping. He wanted to get out of this chair, wanted to go to Murphy wherever he was. Bitten? It couldn't be possible. 

"Where is he?! What did you people do to him?!" He demanded, the possibility of losing his brother again overwhelming.

"He's been here about ten days. He wasn't bitten right away. He came, same as you did. To look for his brother. The Governor said that he'd help him and asked for a bit of assistance in return. Murphy agreed, spirited to help out it seemed and so desperate to find you. I've never seen a man so full of faith even through all this. It was last night that he got bitten and the other guys brought him back."

"Why didn't anyone tell me? Where was he? Why didn't I ever see him?"

"You gave Phillip reason to distrust you, he didn't believe you were on his "side". And Murphy was out on the borders of our town, patrolling and such. We were almost sure that sooner or later the two of you would run into each other but he got bitten and now..."

"And now what?"

"Connor, no one's ever survived a bite." Milton was trying to go easy as he spoke, trying not to make the blow as heavy as it was.

"I want to see him! Where the hell is he?" Connor shouted, kicking his legs to try and get out of the chair.

"You don't want to see him like this."

"I want to see him!" He repeated, his anger harsh and unmanageable. 

Milton nodded and turned out the door. He didn't give Connor anytime to think, any time to let what he had said sink in because the door opened soon after and Milton was there again.

"Five minutes." Milton said almost in a warning before he turned out the door again.

Connor swallowed harshly, nervously. His eyes searching the darkness in the doorway before someone appeared there.

It was Murphy, his brother, the one he had been searching forever for. Too pale with terribly dampened eyes and a drawn look to his features. He was looking at Connor but everything he did, every movement he made seemed to hurt. This wasn't what he had been expecting, it was too painful to look into those eyes. Bitten. It seemed that what Milton had said was true.


	11. 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this chapter!

Murphy staggered further into the room once the door shut behind him. The light made him look faded, his eyes empty. Or was that just the bite? Connor watched him and he felt everything inside of him just break, tears were glazing over and his heart was racing impossibly fast.

"Murphy. It's me. It's Connor." He called out, softly, trying to not let the tears break his voice.

Murphy lifted his head and walked towards Connor, a smile making its way weakly onto his lips. "There you are Conn." He said, stopping in front of Connor and dropping to his knees. "Let's get you out of these." He reached out for the leather restraints on his wrists and tugged at them before he reached into his pocket and drew out a knife, cutting them off and freeing him.

Connor rubbed at the red marks on his wrists and then looked clearly at Murphy, trying not to break at the sight of him. "What'd they do to you?" He demanded harshly.

He shook his head. "We didn't see the group of them coming." He replied, his voice labored. "Around ten of them and they just came at us. Only me and a couple others got out of there but looks like I took something with me." He gave a breath of a laugh.

Connor felt the anger surge up through him although he didn't show it on the surface. He couldn't break when Murphy needed him most. "Where is it?"

"Are you sure you want to see it?" When Connor nodded Murphy stood up, peeling off his jacket and lifting the side of his shirt and lifting the bandage off.

And there was his confirmation. It was a disgusting sight, the bite large and bloody. It looked to be almost alive, the missing flesh seeming to throb. He was hissing, and his eyes were panicked as he looked down at his bite.

Connor sat there looking at the wound with disbelief still raging in his mind. He didn't want to see his brother standing there, literally on the edge of death.

"We're gonna get you out of here..." Connor said, standing up despite the aches from his encounter with The Governor earlier.

Murphy shook his head. "Can't go anywhere."

"What the hell are you talking about?" He demanded, his voice harsh and confused.

"Bitten like this? Won't even survive the night." Murphy stepped back, his fire returning just a little but even that had faded.

"Don't you say that, Murph! It isn't true!" He yelled out, his eyes hard with disbelief as he stood up and took hold of Murphy's shoulder. "You're going to survive and I'm taking you the hell out of here."

Murphy placed his hand over Connor's and let his gaze sink into Connor. "I'nm not going to make it." He said firmly with such finality Connor had no room for argument. "You have to do something for me."

Connor stared at him, knowing what the next words were going to be. "You can't ask me to do that."

"I don't want anyone else to do it. You're my brother, I want to die right here and with you. We always said we'd go out together."

"But I won't be going out with you...it'll just be you." Tears were spilling over and his defiance against the situation they were in was strong in his eyes. "We're supposed to go out together, like we always said!"

"Well that isn't how it's going to be. I'm bitten and you're still alive. Just the way it is." Murphy forced out, his weakness overpowering his ability to speak. He stumbled a little and then fell onto the chair Connor had just been sitting in. He was getting weaker, that much was clear just by looking at him.

Connor dropped down in front of Murphy and looked up at him. "You can't ask me to do that."

"Who else is going to do it? The Governor?"

Connor's eyes hardened as he heard The Governor's name. "He isn't what you think he is."

Murphy nodded. "I know."

"You know?"

"Course I did. Stuck around just to look for you."

Connor felt the pull inside of him. Murphy had seen it so why hadn't he? Had he been blinded? By what? Distracted by Andrea. What would Murphy say about that?

"I met some people that he's going to attack...I can't let that happen."

"Then don't. You know you can't."

God's calling. Connor knew but still he shook his head. "I can't do it without you. It's both our calling, not just mine."

"Now you have to finish it. You have to." Murphy firmly ordered.

"Why would God let you die? "

Murphy looked at Connor confused. "Don't you dare question it. It's how it has to be. He works in mysterious ways, you said so yourself."

Connor looked down, letting the tears fall from his eyes. He usually wasn't the kind of guy who showed his emotions but he couldn't keep it in, not with seeing his brother broken this way.

"I can't do it."

Murphy sighed before he broke out into a fit of coughs, his eyes becoming hazy and his body weaker. Connor noticed it and wrapped his arms around him.

"Don't do this, Murph not now. Please. I just found you." He pleaded although he knew it was no use.

Murphy reached down and pulled his gun out of its holster, his hands were shaky as he held it out to Connor. "Here."

Connor shook his head. "I can't."

"So you would have me turn? I don't want that, please Conn." Murph wrapped his hand around Connor's hand tightly before releasing it.

Connor nodded. "Not yet."

Murphy sat back in the chair and let out a labored breath. He held Connor's eyes sadly, a million words unspoken threatening to be let out. "We had a good run." He said with a slight smile.

"Aye." Connor nodded, a smile forming on his lips as well.

They held each others eyes, the thoughts of their lives running their course beside each other racing through them, ending here, ending for good. Connor lowered his eyes, the tears falling more. Murphy stared at his brother, his heart ripping to shreds before he rested back. He let his eyes slide shut and let out a labored breath, his hand gripping the arm of the chair.

"Do it." Murph rasped out.

Connor looked up, silently cocking back the trigger of his gun.

"Guess I'll say hi to da for you." He gave a smile again as he opened his eyes and held his brothers eyes.

"Guess you will." Connor reached out, taking his brothers arm in his hand firmly.

Murphy didn't say anything, he wasn't holding on anymore. He had found Connor and nothing else mattered. Connor let out a strained cry as he lifted the gun, seeing that peaceful look on his face. He held the gun there, aimed at his brothers face and he turned away. His eyes shut, his tears fell and the gun weighed a ton in his hand. He had to do it. He couldn't let Murphy turn, he wouldn't do that to him.

"And shepherds we shall be, For Thee, my Lord, for Thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand, That our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command. So we shall flow a river forth to Thee And teeming with souls shall it ever be. In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti." He spoke the prayer in a whisper, his voice strained and the pain harsh and burning. His hands shook as his finger reached for the trigger. He pulled the trigger and the shot rang out deafening him.

He dropped down, the gun falling from his hand to the ground and nothing inside of him working. He couldn't look at his brother. Couldn't see the hole where the bullet had sank in. He could smell the smoke from the gun, the blood that had come from Murphy and all he felt was numb.

Shakily he reached into his shirt and pulled his rosary out, gripping it tight in his hands. He stood up, not able to look at Murphy. He looked around the storage room, wanting to find a way out. He couldn't stay here. He knew The Governor's plans for him. If he stayed, he'd die. But if he left he would go back to the prison and there he could die too. At least he would be with Andrea, at least he would know what happened with his brother.

He forced his eyes down to his brother in the chair. His head was shot back, the bullet wound having destroyed his face. Blood dripped from the wound, dripping onto the chair he was sitting on. The tears burned in his eyes, his pain was weakening him and yet it also strengthened him. It wasn't going to end here, not when he still had life in him. He didn't know what he was going to do but there was one thing he knew for sure. Whatever happened he was going to get revenge for Murphy's death. It could have been prevented if he knew he had been here. And besides The Governor Merle knew he had been here. That wasn't just going to slip away.

He reached , taking the gun in his hand and walked towards the door, pulling it open he saw Milton standing there.

"Is he?"

Connor nodded, his eyes dark. "Don't let them touch him. Do it yourself." He wasn't sure why he trusted Milton, why he would leave his brothers body with him but it was all he could do.

"Where will you go?" Milton asked, curiously and worriedly.

"You know where." He replied, making to move past him.

"Don't come back." Milton said, pulling at Connors coat. "Don't let Andrea come back either."

"I won't."

"There's a car out back. Tell them all to forget Woodbury and leave."

Connor didn't give him an answer, he just walked past him outside. He kept walking until he reached the end of Woodbury where he found the car. The keys were in the ignition and he started up the car. He drove off and didn't look back, Murphy's gun weighing heavy on him. When he saw the prison he let out a sigh of relief but when he saw that it was Merle who opens the gates he felt suffocate all over again. He got out of the car, dusting himself off and walking into the prison. He would deal with Merle soon enough.


	12. 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Connor and Daryl talk! Tell me what you think!

Andrea offered to help him but he had told her no. This was his brother. This was what he had to do. No one else would shovel up the dirt that would cover him. No one else was going to feel the blisters on their hands, the sweat pool on their backs. Only him. Because Murphy was his brother, only his, and he was the only one who knew him. No one else had. He didn't have anyone who knew Murphy before all this had happened. Who knew what kind of man his brother had been. It used to be just him and Murph, no one else, until the world stopped its damn spinning. But now the world was still going, still spinning in all its horrible ways and Murphy was gone. He hasn't deserved to go out like that. Bitten by a damned walker, a bullet in the back of the head. That hadn't been fit for who his brother had been.

He signed and took a break for a bit of breath. He could smell the heat, that's how thick it was. He was standing in the area where Rick had directed him to. It was where they had buried their own dead. He had to remember to thank the man for that. There were makeshift crosses in th dirt, marking where the bodies had been buried.

He went back to the digging, almost there. He was tired. The beating he had taken from the Governor enough to make his whole body ache, the emotional toll he had taken today enough to make his soul scarred. But he had to continue. This was the last thing he would ever do for his brother. The very last thing and he had to make it count.

Finally the hole was deep enough and he threw the shovel aside. He looked down at the empty plot and let out a labored breath. His brother was to lay in that hole forever. That was to be his resting place. Not the rolling green of Ireland. Not the fields outside their ma's house. No it was to be. Outside a cold prison, walkers walking the yard and an army ready to attack. He couldn't give him so much peace, but it was all he had.

He turned around, his eyes finding the body in the darkening light. He was wrapped up in a whit sheet from inside the cellblocks. He leaned down, bending at the knees and tried to lift him but his strength gave out. It was too much for one day. Instead he carefully dragged him, his arms screaming at him for rest but not being given it. With as little harm to the body as he could he carefully pulled him into the grave and stepped out. He looked down at the sheet wrapped body and sighed. Not how it was supposed to be.

He just stood there for a long while, his eyes taking it the outline of his face against the white sheet, the dark area that he knew was the stain of blood from his bite. This was his brother. The half of him he was now without. Tears would have fallen had he not been so angry. Tears would have came had he not been replaying in his head over and over how he was going to seek revenge for his brother's death.

He started shoveling the dirt back. Each go causing his breathing to strain and the rate of his heart to quicken. He just kept going, not caring that all the light had faded and he was left in the dark night, the grunts he let out drawing walkers to the gates. They were snarling for him and he tried his hardest to ignore them but he couldn't. Their growls angered him, shredded his last bit of calm and made hi, to turn around. He was going to let out a yell, striking the shovel through one of the walkers heads where it waited for him at the gate but he stopped when he saw that someone was standing there.

"Y'alright?" Daryl asked, startle and concern in his eyes.

Connor hesitated a moment before the shovel fell from his hands and he stepped back. He let out a long breath and nodded a little. "I'm fine."

Daryl glanced over at the walkers at the gate and then again at Connor. "They're enough to drive y'insane, right?"

"Aye, that's true." He replied with another nod.

Daryl drew his knife and made his way to the gate. The walkers reached their arms out to him, trying to claw at him. He watched them a moment before he drove the knife into one of their heads. He brought it back out with a heavy breath and then moved onto the next, stabbing it through the . The next was the forehead and then another was up through the neck. He wiped the blade onto his pants and moved from the gate, the wounds of the walkers distant somewhat.

"That's better." Connor stated, pushing his hair back.

Daryl nodded. "Rick's getting kinda anxious y'being out here on your own and all." He said, his voice softened, perhaps cautious.

"He shouldn't be. I'm fine."

"Well Andrea is a bit anxious too." He was treading the line, perhaps knowing how it was they had looked at each other, or the emotional send off he had seen. He had known Andrea awhile, hadn't he?

"Well I'll be in in a moment."

Daryl moved around Connor and looked down at the filled hole. "Looks like y'got it done." He said, kicking a little at the shovel.

"I did."

Daryl nodded and then walked over to where he had come up over here from. He bent down, taking something up from the ground. "Thought you'd want this." He held it out to Connor.

Connor looked down at the makeshift cross and took it into his own hands. "Thanks." He said softly, giving a bit of am strained smile.

Daryl nodded and stepped back, turning on his heel and making to go to back to the prison. He stopped when he heard how Connor pushed the cross into the soft dirt. He looked back to Connor. He had his head lowered, one of his hands was on the cross and the other was holding two sets of rosary beads. He felt a sharp sting fill him at the sight.

Brothers. Had Merle been this way when they had been apart? Had he been this distraught? Had his world shattered in his absence? He knew the answer and damn it he hated it.

He turned away from the sight and started walking back to the prison, his heart feeling like lead in his chest. There were so many things he wished he could change. Too many things he wished were different.

"Wait." Connor called out causing Daryl to turn around. "I'll go back with you." He said, dusting his hands off and slipping the rosaries back around his neck.

Daryl waited for him to catch up. Connor took the shovel with him and kept his eyes powers the whole time.

They reached the main entrance of the cellblock but before they entered Daryl stopped and looked at Connor.

"I just want to let y'know that no matter what we're gonna bastard and everyone else who's with Him." Daryl's voice dripped with seriousness. His eyes were ablaze with fury and the grip he had on the crossbows strap tightened.

Connor nodded with what? Gratitude? Hope? Trust? Or was he silently telling the man that he didn't need him to get it done? Either way he was grateful for these people, for their acceptance. One thing he wondered was if it would still come once they found out what he was planning to do to Merle Dixon.

"thank you." He said with a nod.

Daryl didn't , he just walked back inside the prison leading the way for Connor to follow.

The group was busy keeping to themselves. Rick was standing with Judith in his arms, his eyes closed as he tried to sleep. Carl was already in bed as was Beth. Almost everyone was actually asleep except for Andrea, Daryl, himself and Michonne. Rick, of course, was simply trying. The man didn't look too good at all.

Once Connor entered Andrea came to him, the worry in her eyes softening her eyes.

"I'm sorry." She whispered softly.

"Don't be, it just...happened." He had to keep the bitterness from his voice. Trying not to let her see the scathing hate that wants to fill his eyes.

Andrea reached her hand out and set it gently on his arm. "Okay."

" Daryl." Rick called out, his voice low so as not to wake the baby in his arms.

Daryl went over to him, leaning close so he could hear. He stood up again and nodded. "We can go, yeah. No problem."

"But you're gonna need someone else with you."

"Me and Merle can take care of ourselves. Don't worry 'bout it." He said with a light shake of his head.

Connor stepped forward. "I can go."

"Maybe that isn't smart." Andrea said with a light shake of her head.

"We couldn't ask you to do that." Rick said.

"I want to prove myself. I'll be fine." Connor assured with a bit of a reassuring smile. That would be his perfect opportunity.


	13. 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really liked this one! Kinda just flowed. Hope you all like it! Tell me what you think!

A light kick to his side woke him up. He opened his eyes groggily and looked up at Daryl who was waiting for him to get him.

"Did you have to do that?" He asked, his body still aching from his encounter with the Governor. He slowly sat up, rubbing at his eyes before meeting Daryl's eyes again.

"It's time to go." Daryl replied, a small smile on his face.

Connor nodded as Daryl walked away. He sat there a moment, trying to wake himself up and trying to shake himself of the aches wrecking his body. The beating he had taken was not the only thing he was paying for right now. It was also the digging throughout the night, non stop. He groaned a little but forced himself up anyways. Feeling beneath his coat he touched to his cross, letting his eyes close for a moment. He found words for his prayer but somehow they didn't touch as deep. Murphy's dead face passed through his mind. He tried not to think of it, tried not to feel the way the gun had felt in his hands. The sound of the trigger, the blood coming out.

After awhile he adjusted himself, pulling his coat on a little tighter and messing with his hair. He touched to the guns he had taken from Murphy, his own somewhere lost in Woodbury no doubt. Another part of him lost. Another memory thrown away because of someone's sadistic plans.

He walked away from the cell and entered the main area where everyone was gathered around and eating. He met Rick's eyes and wondered if the man was worse off than he was. He sure as hell looked it. 

"Hey. Hungry?" Andrea's soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. She was holding a bowl out for him. She looked better. There wasn't anything conflicting in her eyes anymore, just the pain. Did it ever go away?

He took the bowl from her and offered her what smile he could. "Thanks..."

"You're really going today? You know that Rick doesn't require that." She spoke softly, keeping their conversation between each other.

"I know he doesn't."

"Maybe you should rest?" She suggested, hoping it sounded like.

He shook his head. "There's a few things I need to take care." He glanced over and saw Merle sitting by himself, eating quietly, that blade on his hand looking more threatening than when he had first seen it. 

"Things?" She questioned, her blue eyes holding his with confusion. She was worried about him. Beneath her many layers of strength and survival there laid a nurturer, someone who cared, who loved. And perhaps that was something of her flaw.

He nodded. "Yeah. Nothing important." He wasn't sure if she saw how he looked to Merle when he said that. What would she say if she knew what was going through his head? What was there to say? He wouldn't listen anyways. 

Andrea stared at him for a moment before nodding and stepping away. She understood. She knew what it was like to lose someone so close. She lightly touched her hand to his arm and walked away, joining everyone else.

Connor looked down at the bowl, lifting the spoon and eating some of the food. He was hungry but he wasn't able to really eat. He felt sick to his stomach. The thought of Murphy laying beneath the ground of this prison, never to see anything or live through anything ever again, haunted him. He dropped the spoon down into the bowl just as Rick came to stand by him. 

"Y'ain't throwing that out, are you?" He asked, a bit of a laugh in his voice as he gestured to the bowl in Connor's hands.

"Of course not." He shook his head and lifted the spoon again. Rick was right. He couldn't take these people's food and waste it. They were living by the skin of their teeth. He could see that. There couldn't be any wasting, not here.

"Was gonna thank you....Y'didn't have to do this." Rick's voice was quiet like Andrea's was but there was a commanding presence within it. The kind that no one could really ignore.

"No need to." Connor shook his head a little. He knew that the trip was going to be a disaster. He wasn't even sure how Rick would react to what he was going to do to Merle. He could sense the tension amongst the group because of Daryl's brother but killing a man was something completely different. 

Rick set a firm hand on Connor's arm and nodded towards him. "Stay safe out there." He said before moving away and leaving Connor to his thoughts.

He continued eating, despite the repulsive feeling in his stomach. He wasn't feeling any kind of hesitance. He not only wanted to do this, he had to do it. Merle Dixon wasn't the kind of guy who needed to be alive in this world. Then next would come the Governor. 

His eyes found Daryl's just then and he sighed. The only thing that caught inside him with hesitance was that man who was looking at him now. He would lose his brother because of this, he would feel the dull ache Connor was feeling now. And once again it would go into a painful cycle of pain, loss and death. But it didn't matter. It couldn't matter. Everyone was someone else's brother.

He looked back down at his bowl, breaking the gaze with Daryl. Things were going to go the way he wanted them to. Merle Dixon was going to end up dead, The Governor was going to go down, and Murphy's death would be avenged. That's how the end was going to play out.

 

Connor stepped out into the yard, fixing his sunglasses over his eyes against the blaring sun. He turned around when Daryl came out followed by Merle and then Rick. Rick just watched as they all got into the car. Connor sat in the back, rolling a cigarette between his fingers carefully. Merle was up front driving, his smug face shooting off words to Daryl that Connor didn't even care to listen to. Daryl didn't speak much, just sat there staring out the window, every now and then answering with a quick reply.

A small town came into view. They were supposed to pick up somethings for the prison. Things to fix up gates, patch up cracks, mend the damage. It was a quick trip. But the one hardware store around was in the middle of an infested town center. 

The car came to a stop and they all got out. Connor looked across the street at the town center and swallowed hard. There were walkers everywhere but he was sure they were something they could handle. 

"Y'ready Irish?" Merle asked, a sloppy smile on his face. 

Connor just threw a glance at him before walking on ahead. He walked further away from the car until he heard footsteps come up behind him. 

"Hey, we stay together." Daryl said, walking beside him with Merle following behind him.

"Whatever you want." Connor said, pulling out his silencer and taking the lead towards the walkers. 

They hurried in, not caring about the silent tactic since the hardware store was overrun as well. Connor switched between his knife and bullets. Cutting down walkers as they came at him. Their blood spraying on him, leaving him breathless as he killed them. He wasn't scared, the adrenaline was pumping through his veins. Killing. This was what he was called for. All he was meant for. Taking out the evil from this world and these things were as evil as they came.

Once they gained a clearing they rushed into the hardware store, trying to catch their breath as they did. They quieted their steps now, looking down aisles and making sure nothing was around. 

"I'll get the stuff, y'two have my back?" Daryl looked them both in their eyes. Was that trust he had somehow placed in themn naive? Or was it something that somehow made him stronger?

"Sure thing baby brother. We've got your back." Merle said with a nod. Once Daryl went on ahead, his knife ready in his hand Merle turned to Connor. "Y'take that spot and I'll get this one."

Connor stepped away from Merle and looked down the aisle closest to him. Nothing there. He could hear walkers somewhere in the store but they sounded as if they were somewhere in the back. 

A yell grabbed his attention and he turned around. It was Merle, he was in one of the aisles. He was grunting with aggression. Connor lifted his gun and walked down to the aisle. And there Merle was, on his back, struggling to get a walker off of him. It was a hungry bastard, overpowering almost every attempt Merle made to get it off. 

Connor just stood there, watching. Was he waiting for the walker to take a bite out of Merle so that he had every right to put a bullet into Merle's head?

"Man! Help me here!" Merle shouted, looking up at Connor desperarely.

Connor wasn't sure what to do. His hand was shaking with the grip he had on his gun. He lifted it. Merle was shouting out to him about how long he was taking, the man was scared. He heard Daryl's footsteps come up behind him and soon enough there was an arrow through the walkers head. Merle groaned and rolled the walker off of him before sitting up and letting out a heavy breath.

Connor stepped back, lowering his gun and trying to calm the trembling in his body. Merle looked up at him, his anger hard in his eyes.

"Y'bastard!" Merle yelled out, shooting up and throwing himself at Connor.

Connor wasn't really shocked but Merle's weight crashed down on him and knocked him off his feet. He threw a punch into Connor's face before he pushed Merle off of him and made to rush after him. Daryl stood in the middle of them though.

"Knock it off!" Daryl shoutedl, his hand pressed hard against Connor's chest.

Merle dusted himself off and came closer. "That bastard just stood there! He was gonna let me die there!" Merle shouted, his finger accusatory as it pointed at Connor.

"Do y'really wanna do this here?" Daryl demanded. "I'm sure he wasn't gonna leave you, damn it." Daryl shrugged Merle away from him and stepped away, picking up his crossbow. "Now let's get the hell outta here." He ordered, slinging the bag he had filled over his shoulder.

Connor walked on after Daryl but was immediately pulled back by Merle. He threw him to the ground, straddling him and slamming his fist into his face twice. He was laughin, his eyes hard and intense. Connor was struggling against him but he was already weak from the day before, Merle's hits just added to it.

Daryl cursed under his breath and hurried towards them, trying to pull Merle off. Connor took the hits, his head getting dizzy, his body getting weaker. Daryl managed to finally pull Merle off , throwing him off of Connor. Connor groaned as he tunned over, spitting blood out onto the floor. His entire face ached and stung at the touch.

Everyone stopped when they heard the dragging footsteps coming towards them from the back of the store. Sounded like nearly a hundred of them.

"Connor! Come on!" Daryl gripped his hand tight and pulled him up, steadying him when he almost wavered.

The walkers showed themselves then as they tried to make it to the door but once they got there and turned towards the glass they saw how impossible it was going to be. The walkers from outside were pressed up against the glass, it was only a matter of time before they got in.


	14. 14

They looked about themselves, almost panicked and unsure what to do. There were walkers pressing in behind them and ahead of them. There wasn't any way out of it unless they were equipped to fend off the vicious attacks. They were armed, sure, but not for a horde this size. It felt almost like a time to give up. Connor looked both ways, hitting his closed fist on the windows and pushing away from them. He surveyed the area as the walkers came closer.

"Can't stay here much longer, man. We're gonna be like shot ducks." Merle nearly yelled, his hand gripping tight to the gun in his hands. He was looking every which way, trying to find a way out too. A way to save his sorry ass so he could live on. Keep living while Murphy was laying dead in the ground. Living a life a man like him didn't deserve to live.

"Connor, Merle, this way." Daryl called out, gesturing them with him hurriedly.

Connor saw that there was a closed office off to the side of the store and that was where Daryl led them to. It wasn't locked and the three of them slipped inside and slammed the door shut.

The small room was a mess. Papers were strewn everywhere, drawers were empties, computers were smashed in. It looked like the scene of some kind of a fight or the scene of people desperate during the end of the world.

Merle scoffed as he looked around, taking in the small room that had close to nothing. "This you plan, baby brother? Stay in here until what? The biters breaks through or we starved to death? Which one did y'have in mind?"

Daryl didn't answer, he only turned his head away as if a bit of shame had struck him. Connor watched it with an anger trust inside of him. What kind of relationship was this? Dysfunctional? Uncaring? The hurt look on Daryl's face nearly said it. Damn bastard cared little for his brother, and if he did have some sort of affection for him then it was lost in the way he treated him. And to think, Merle Dixon still had his brother.

"Just trying to keep us alive." Connor defended as he sorted through the items laying on the desk.

"Alive?" Merle questioned, the sarcasm sharp on his tongue.

"Yeah." Connor met his eyes, making sure his own gaze was as hardened as the way he felt inside. "Which is more than anyone could say for you."

"Excuse me, mick?" Merle demanded, his brows tensing together as he stepped forward.

"You heard what I said."

"And what exactly have y'done to keep my brother and his wounded group safe?"

Connor shook his head. "Nothing. But I don't pretend like I do either." He was in no way scared of Merle, not even after the punches he had just thrown. He had dealt with a lot worse. Men from the Russian mob, pure bred criminals, who feasted on a murder after a long day of sinning their souls away in between a prostitutes legs. Merle Dixon was a coward. A coward that deserved to die, yes, but a coward all the same.

"If y'don't shut that mouth of yours I'm gonna have to go and shut for you. And lemme tell you, it wont feel too pretty." His smile was sharp as he held Connor's eyes.

"Don't mistake me for a man who would be scared." Connor said, looking Merle straight in the eyes. His face was still stinging from Merle's hits and his body still ached because of the Governor and the digging but none of it mattered as he stared into the mans eyes. This man who had known Murphy was in Woodbury the whole time. This man who could have helped Connor in making sure he was with his brother again.

Merle stepped closer to Connor, his defensive glare hardening each time Connor spoke. Connor just smiled a little. Gone were the days when he could live life the way he had before in Boston. Gone were the days when a bar fight would just lead to a laugh and a round of drinks. This world had stolen it. Had stolen the world that he and his brother used to live in. He wasn't even the same man anymore. He was hardened, lost in the sea of death they suddenly were surrounded by.

"Best be scared Irish because I've never come out of a fight leaving the other man alive." Merle pushed out, his anger lacing through every word he spoke.

Connor wanted to laugh. Merle was a hard man, of course he was, but the Governor had managed to tame him. "I think I'll test it."

"Would y'two shut the hell up? They're gonna notice us." Daryl said in a harsh whisper, pointing towards the door as he readied an arrow in his crossbow.

Just when he said that there was a bang at the door, several of them. They had noticed them, had seen them escape into the office or heard his and Merle's voices. Either way they were in trouble.

"Way to jinx us, Daryl." Merle said, his voice finally lowering.

Daryl glanced at him, a bit of anger built up in his eyes. "Wasn't me. It was y'two bastards yelling like crazy."

Connor didn't speak, he was looking around, checking to see for a way out. There weren't any windows and if they slipped out the door they would meet the walkers dead on. They couldn't risk that. They couldn't throw themselves to the horde for a hope to survive. That would be suicide.

While Merle continued to bicker away Connor saw a way out. A shaft on the wall, they could climb through there and get out of the building. It either led to the generator below the building or somewhere up on the roof. Either way it could be potential safety.

"Guys!" Connor called out, cutting off Merle as he continued to talk Daryl's ear off.

They both turned around.. Merle looking at him with a bit of a smirk.

"Ready to get your ass kicked now, Irish?" Merle asked with a laugh.

"More like a way out. We get through the shaft we might be able to get out of the building."

"Aren't we the genius." Merle muttered.

"No, just thinking instead of talking."

Merle laughed a little before he and Daryl walked over to the shaft.

"I hope one of those tools you got was a screwdriver." Connor said to Daryl.

Daryl nodded and pulled one from his bag, handing it over. Connor unscrewed the vent face and then gestured for Merle to go in first. Merle was about to make a a fuss about it before Daryl shot him a look to just do it.

"Pretty dusty in here!" Merle exclaimed, waving a hand in front of his face.

Daryl made to go in next but he stopped first. "Hey."

Connor looked up at Daryl. "Yeah?"

"Y'weren't really gonna let him die, right?"

Daryls words struck Connor harder than he would have liked. There was that same pleading look in his eyes that Murphy got sometimes. When they were small and he'd get hurt or when their da died. He had to look away to compose himself again. He wasn't sure how to answer. Bastard or not Merle was still Daryl's brother.

"No 'course not." Connor said with a shake of his head. The lie burned through his chest where the rosary laid against his skin.

Daryl nodded as if he shouldn't have even asked, like he should have known better. But behind all that he saw the fact that hidden there Daryl somehow knew what it was that Connor was planning. Daryl broke it though when he looked away and climbed into the vent.

Connor heavily sighed before he climbed in as well. The dust hit his face and he coughed loudly, trying to see inn the darkness.

"Man up Irish" Merle said but Connor just ignored him.

He couldn't help but smile at the thoughts that were in his head. The thoughts of the last time he was in a shaft like this one. His and Murphy's first hit, the first time they had gotten their calling. They had fought like hell, Murphy always pissed off with his plans but damn it they had made it. He sighed last the veil of tears covering his eyes as he continued crawling.


	15. 15

The shaft had led them to the roof. At first it was quiet but soon enough the growls came to their ears. Connor hoped that they could have brushed it off as the sounds coming from the street below but it was too close, too loud. There were walkers on the roof and he felt a surge of fear enter him. Sure, he wanted to kill everyone of those dead bastards that he could but being completely outnumbered like they were wasn't too good an idea. He didn't want to be eaten alive. He didn't want to suffer the fate that Murphy had. He had to stay alive, had to keep himself going. He was going to get revenge for what had happened to his brother. Once that was done he would think about dying.

"Great thinking Irish!" Merle shouted, seeing as the walkers had already noticed them, "y'led us right back to them!"

Another failed plan. Murphy would have been so irritated if he had been here. He would ask if he was even going to include some damn rope. But Murphy wasn't here because he was dead. He was never coming back and Connor was always going to be alone. Alone with his stupid plans.

Daryl loaded his crossbow, ignoring the bickering that was beginning to start already. He stepped forward, burying the tip of an arrow into a walkers head. He looked back at his brother and Connor with irritation in his eyes.

"Would the two of y'shut your mouths? We ain't go time for this." He nearly yelled as he loaded up another arrow and shot it through a walkers head.

Instead of pulling out his gun Connor took the knife from his pants and rushed forward in front of Merle. In his head he was trying to take out then rest of his aggression out on the walkers. He wasn't going to kill Merle, at least not yet. It had been something in Daryl's eyes that had begged him not to do it, and especially not in front of him.

Merle came up beside Connor, the blade on his arm ripping through several walkers. He let out exerted groans, the blood flying up at him. Connor struck out with his knife, the blade sharp as it cut through the walkers skin, the blood spilling out onto his hands. Daryl fired another arrow, pulled it out and used the tip to stab another walker. He pulled out his own knife, stabbing through a walker close to him.

Connor noticed that they were coming from the opened door that led down inside the building. One by one they continued towards them, their groans vicious and their attacks unrelenting. He planned it out in his head. He would get around the walkers and make it to the door, slamming it shut and working with the chain that was unlocked at the top. He had to get it close or else they would just keep coming.

Without warning he darted off, his knife slashing out at the approaching walkers around him. He made his way to the door nearby. He ran towards the door, kicking a walker down the flight of stairs inside and slammed it shut.

As he locked the chain up good a something grabbed him from behind. He let out a yell as its snarling mouth got to his neck. He jerked away and the knife flew out of his hands. Scrambling towards it the walker was on him again, its grip deathly tight and its teeth bared. He struggled with it as it climbed on top of him, mindlessly attacking and hungering for his flesh.

Soon an arrow shot through the air and the walker collapsed, the tip digging into the side of its head. It fell off him and Daryl was there hovering over him. He offered him his hand and helped him up.

"Don't run off." Daryl ordered, relief flooding his eyes. Was he really relieved that Connor was alive?

"Got the door shut." Connor said, gesturing to the locked door behind him. "Now we just have to contend with-"

A scream cut off his words nad they both turned towards the direction of the walkers. Some were falling off to the side and others just kept coming.

"Merle!" Daryl yelled out, his face twisting with fear as he ran forward.

Connor followed behind him but the group of walkers parted and Merle rushed out, his blade dripping with blood as he danced along the edge of the building.

"Merle! Get your ass outta there!" Daryl shouted out, as he readied another arrow.

Connor made to go to him, to help him ward off the walkers crowding him but before he could the horde pressed in on Merle. Some walkers fell off the edge and others just jumped at Merle. Connor stopped and just watched, his breath hitching his throat as a yell shot through the air. They had taken Merle with them.

Daryl screamed, dropping his crossbow and rushing towards the edge but Connor hurried to hold him back, using all his force in preventing him.

"You can't help him." He told Daryl, as if something so simple would be able to calm the emotions raging inside the man.

Daryl tried to fight him off, his eyes reddened as tears washed through them. He was shaking, fighting against Connor's grip but eventually he collapsed, his head lowered and his fist pressed hard against the ground.

Connor just stood there, unsure what to do, unsure of what to say. Merle was dead. He had wanted that to happen. So why didn't it come with satisfaction? Why couldn't he feel pleasure over the thought? Why was Daryl's agony suddenly interfering with that? It shouldn't matter. Merle's death would have come eventually. It was either this was or by his own hand so why wasn't his heart accepting it that way? Why couldn't he bask in the feeling it offered him? One more step towards his revenge, right?

Daryl shot up then, his anger flustering the quiet blue of his eyes. He stood in front of Connor, his fists curled up and his face a contottion of a million raging emotions.

"I could've saved him if it weren't for you!" Daryl shouted out, pushing harshly at Connor's chest.

Connor didn't answer, he just stared the man in the eyes. He had been there. He had seen his brother die as a consequence of this new world. He took the shoves that Daryl forced at him, he took the anger he threw at him. He understood what he was going through but he couldn't say he regretted knowing Merle Dixon was dead. One thing he did regret was not pulling the trigger himself.

"Aren't y'gonna say something?" Daryl demanded, stepping back as the tears slowly started to trail from his lashes.

Connor sighed as he parted his lips and met Daryl's eyes. "We have to get out of here." He calmly said.

"How?! We're surrounded!" Daryl yelled, turning away from Connor and staring off in the direction of the edge that Merle had been trapped on.

There wasn't any sign that there had been anybody there. No evidence now that Merle Dixon had been up on this roof. The only proof was the look on Daryl's face, the tragic look of loss in his eyes. He was nothing but a memory now. What did he leave behind? A string of people that hated him? A load of mistakes everyone knew about? And one person who would give a damn that he had ever lived.

Connor looked down over the ledge, seeing the walkers crowded there eating at Merle's body. It was all in one area, the rest of the street was clear. He walked around to where the fire escape was, seeing that nothing was around there, a couple of spare walkers.

"We go down the fire escape." Connor said, gripping the rail that led to the ladder.

Daryl came up beside him, the tension heavy in the air. He gave a stiff nod and they climbed down, Connor going first and Daryl going after. Once they reached the ground they took the small alleyway that led around to the street.

"We can't get to the car." Daryl pointed out, seeing as the front of the store and the street was completely blocked off.

"Then we don't get to the car." Connor replied, taking his gun from its holster and gripping it tight in his hands.

Daryl loaded up another arrow, keeping alert. They walked off throught the back roads, meeting nothing at all. Finally they circled back to the main road and headed off towards the path to the prison.

Not a word was spoken between them, the air hung around them like a thick cloud. Daryl was angry, he was breaking, he was tense. Connor could feel all of it directed at him. He couldn't say it was misplaced because seeing Merle dead was one of the reasons he had come back to the prison.

They walked up to the gates of the prison, Daryl waving his hand to get the attention of whoever was on watch. There was commotion and then finally someone ran up to unlock the gates. Daryl and Connor rushed to the gate that led to the main yard and they were allowed in.

It was Rick who was waiting for them. His eyes curious as he watched them. "Where's?"

Daryl's eyes looked to Rick, drawn and broken and all Rick did was nod. Daryl nodded back, slipping the bag from his shoulder and handing it to him. Daryl gave what he could of an accepting expression before he wandered back into the prison.

Connor just stood there until Rick looked to him. "Merle...we were attacked. A horde." Connor tried his best to explain what had happened.

Rick nodded and pulled the bag up onto his shoulder. "Thank you." Rick muttered before gesturing Connor inside and disappearing inside himself.


	16. 16

He just stood there, his eyes trained on the walkers roaming the yard. His mind was trying to remain blank but nothing was working. All he saw was the image of Merle standing on the edge of the building before being pulled down, his yell breaking out through the snarls of the walkers. That's all that filled his mind, that's all he could think of. He had looked over the edge unable to see anything but the crowd of walkers heading towards Merle's body. He couldn't even see Merle but he had seen the window of oppurtunity his death had given them to escape. Finally a plan that worked.

Did he still want it? Did he still find pleasure in knowing that Merle was gone? That one part of his revenge was accomplished? One more step towards it. One more step towards the finality of the rage of revenge that filled him. Did he still want that? 

He blamed the questioning on Daryl. The agony that had graced Daryl's face in that moment when he had witnessed what was happening to his brother. The torture that embedded itself in every line of his face. He had taken out his sorrow on him, had thrown the blame on him. Had he really known? Had he noticed the look in his eyes whenever he looked at Connor?

He didn't turn when the doors of the prison opened. He stayed standing there, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He wanted to be alone, wanted to sink himself into his thoughts just for a moment. He knew he had to go back into the prison, face everyone, face Daryl.

What would he even say to Daryl? What could he say to Daryl? There was nothing that he could say. He couldn't apologize because he had wanted it. He wouldn't be telling the truth and looking into the man's eyes while lying would only make it worse..

Andrea came up beside him, linking her fingers through the links in the gate as she turned her eyes to him. Did she notice anything different about him? Did she notice the sudden conflict he had? Did she know that he wanted to kill Merle?

"Hey..." Her voice was soft as her eyes met the profile of his face.

He swallowed back the million sof conflicting emotions rising up inside of him before he finally looked to her. "Hey..." He greeted her in a small voice, smaller than he usually managed.

"How long are you going to be out here?" She turned her gaze away, watching the same spot he did. Or maybe her focus was elsewhere? On the trees and not at all on the dead that were just outside their door.

He gave a shrug before letting out a small sigh. "I can't go back in there."

Lightly her brows furrowed. "Why not?"

Would he tell her now? Would he let someone in with confidence? Could he really do that though? Could he allow someone to see inside of him? The only person who had ever known his whole reasons, his whole meanings was Murphy. But he was gone, never coming back. He would never see those blue eyes looking up at him with understanding as Connor let out the innermost parts of his heart. Never hear the words of encouragement followed by an invivtation for a drink or a few words that would instantly lift the atmosphere of the room.

But she wasn't Murphy, this was Andrea and nothing at all would be whole enough to fill the void he had left.

"Just can't." He simply replied, his voice stifled by the emotions flooding through him. It wasn't just Merle now it was the realization that Murphy was never coming back.

She was obviously thinking of pressing it, her eyes showing the effects of worry in them but she let out a low breath and gave a nod. "Things didn't go so good out there, did they?"

Connor dropped his hands to his sides and gave a shake of his head. "Not at all."

She gave a sigh, having already heard what had happened. She didn't know how to react, didn't know what to say. She and Merle had never really gotten along but he was still someone. Someone who had died. 

"Well it isn't your fault." It was all she knew what to say. She could see that there was something erupting in the depths of his eyes and she knew what it meant. There was something builiding up there and she didn't know how to get to it.

He gave a low breath and shrugged again. "Of course it isn't." He replied, looking back down at her with hesitant eyes. "Where's Daryl?"

Tucking her hair behind her ear she looked off away from him. Her eyes showed the struggle she was feeling. "He went off somewhere, Rick just said to let him be."

"Well his brother just died." He swallowed down the words harshly. Connor could see it again, the way the bullet had looked at the back of Murphy's head, the smell of the gunshot rising up. He tried to blink it away but the images wouldn't disappear.

"I know." She whispered, glancing up at him. She knew the delicacy of the situation, she understood it.

He met her eyes and nodded, forgetting somehow that she had been in this same place. Hadn't everyone? Even The Governor in all his gruesome plans had tasted the plague of death. 

She managed a smile just then, her eyes glistening gently in the dimming afternoon. "Rick said they're starting up the repairs out back, just in case-" She couldn't say it, the guilt was rising up again. How could she have stayed in Woodbury this whole time, letting her group suffer here at The Governor's command. "If you want to help?"

Connor nodded and gave a slight smile in response. "I'll be right there." He replied hoping it was enough to send her back inside just so he could gather himself together for now.

She nodded and lightly set her hand on his arm. "Okay." She softly said moving away from him although she so desperately wished there was a way to help him, to console the despair lingering in his eyes. But she knew thre was nothing she could do. People had to heal on their own.

He watched her walk back to the prison, cringing a little at the sound of the doors closing before he let out a breath. Everything felt so heavy inside of him, so weighted. He knew though that he had to get himself together. He had come to this prison to help, he had inserted himself into this group to offer some kind of protection. And he couldn't do that by dragging himself around with his torment. Not only that he had his path to finish. The Governor was still alive, that was reason enough to keep himself going.

Shaking himself up a little he forced himself into the prison, the dim light a sharp difference from outside. It was so quiet except for the sound of the group working outside but in here there weren't any sounds at all.

He walked from the main area and started to head out again but stopped when he heard a sound coming from the cell block. His brows tensed up as he followed the sound and stopped when he saw it was Daryl. Making to move backwards just so he wouldn't have to see him.

Daryl turned around just then, seeing Connor and he just stopped. His face drained and his eyes filled with an anger, a hopelessness. "What are y'doing here?" He questioned, his voice hardened.

"Staying. If you haven't already noticed." He replied simply, as if he wasn't taken aback by the hard emotions brewing in Daryl's eyes. Why was he surprised? Wasn't it just a visual representation of the tense atmosphere that had surrounded them on their way back to the prison?

"Well I don't want you to." He replied, stepping forward.

"Don't think you make those calls. Rick calls the shots it seems." He didn't back down, he simply stood there looking into Daryl's eyes almost defiantly. If Daryl wanted all his emotions to culminate in this way then he would let him. He wouldn't move away if he threw the blame at him.

"I'll tell him to kick y'out." He pushed at him just then, his eyes darkening and his anger rising fiercely to the surface.

Connor didn't say anything, the shove had hurt but he didn't care. He stood his ground until Daryl finally shoved him again and with more force. Connor nearly stumbled, his body still aching from all that had happened to him these past couple of days. 

"Guess y'got what y'wanted, Connor. He's dead! He's dead and y'wanted it, you stupid bastard!" Daryl rushed to him, grabbing him by the coat and throwing his fist into his face.

Connor fell, the blow knocking him down. His head started spinning again and he could feel the warmth of blood trickling onto his skin. He tried to say something but Daryl came on him again, lifting him up by the coat and throwing another punch. Connor's head fell back, his hands trying to ward him off. Usually he would be able to take this as if it was nothing but a scratch but his body had been through hell and back and weakness was already creeping up on him.

Before Daryl could throw another punch the sound of footsteps came rushing into the cell block. Connor could see through blurred vision that it was Andrea, Rick and a few others. There was a flurry of voices as Daryl's weight was pulled off of Connor by Rick, followed by shouts.

Connor's eyes closed and Andrea rushed to his side. He didn't hear anything she said because slowly darkness came and his train of thought slipped from his grasp.


	17. 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's a new chapter! Hope you like it! Do whatever y'all do best if you like it! :)

He came to, his eyes becoming blurry and the pain greeting him. He tried to sit up but a pair of hands held him back from doing so. He fell back onto the bed with a low breath and a grimace of pain on his face. He searched the dark and found Andrea sitting beside him, her blue eyes glistening softly in the dimmed light.

"How are you feeling?" She softly asked, moving back a little from him to give him a bit of space.

He gave a small groan and looked up at her before running his hand back through his hair. "Like crap." He mumbled, closing his eyes against the pain.

She gave a breath of a laugh and nodded. "Of course."

Connor opened his eyes again to look up at her. "Where's Daryl?"

Andrea sighed and gave a small shrug. "He and Rick went outside."

"How long I been out?"

"Only a few minutes..." She turned her eyes back to him. "..Connor? What happened?"

He let out a low breath and made to sit up, waving off her helping hands. "Merle." He said, his name sounding odd coming from his lips. The hate, it was gone. The need for the man to die wasn't there anymore. What was left in its place? It wasn't regret, it wasn't a wish that it never had happened.

"Oh." She simply said with a slight nod of her head.

Connor gave a shrug. He didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to hear her opinion on any of it. It didn't matter that when they had been in Woodbury she had opened up to him, confided in him. He wasn't easily opened up like she was, he supposed. Not to anyone but Murphy.

"Doesn't matter...as long as I can still help." He said, trying to get off the bed despite the pain wrecking through him.

"Connor..." She softly warned but knew not to prevent him.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, tugging at his coat to bring it closer to him. "Had worse." He said, laughing as he reached into his pocket to find his pack of cigarettes.

She gave a small laugh and a shake of her head. "You've been through a lot these past couple of days."

Finding the pack he pulled one out and set it on his lip. "It happens." He nearly smiled as he lit up the cigarette. All he could think of was those times he had been with Murphy, not even just doing their work. Those nights at the bars, knocking back drink after drink. Usually the nights went by without so much of a scuffle but sometimes there'd be some bastard waltzing in acting like they owned McGinty's. He and Murphy were aching the next morning, sure, but they knew for sure the other guys looked a whole lot worse.

The smell of the cigarette smoke circled around them and Connor let out a relaxed sigh. Despite the pain rushing through him he was calmed, for now at least.

"You never told me what happened." Andrea said, breaking the silence and lifting her eyes to him.

"What happened?" He questioned even though he knew full well what she was talking about. She wanted to know about The Governor, why he had come back and in the shape he had been in. Things hadn't gone the way they should have, that was obvious.

"In Woodbury, when you went back. Why you're here now." Her voice was wavering, she was upset. She felt bad for having let him go back on his own, for leaving him to face The Governor. But what could she have done? If she had gone she would no doubt have died.

"What? You don't like me being here?" He questioned with a small laugh, lifting the cigarette to his lips again and taking a pull.

"Connor. I'm being serious." She firmly said, her eyes never leaving his as they silently pleaded with him.

Heavily he sighed. He didn't want to talk about Woodbury, about what had happened. That would only bring up the images of Murphy, what had happened, what had led up to his death. He could still feel the heaviness of the gun in his hand, the jerk of firing it off. He didn't want to see it again, didn't want to think of the fact that he had been the one to end his brother's life. He told himself over and over that he was already dead but he had been the one to pull the trigger.

"Look it doesn't matter. None of it does." He said, standing up and letting the cigarette hang on his lips. "I'm here, alive so it doesn't matter." He shrugged his shoulders a little, letting out an exhalation of breath.

"Connor, please..." She nearly pleaded, standing up as well.

Connor made to talk but the prison doors opened cutting him off. They both turned their attention towards the footsteps approaching them. It was Rick, his hand steady on his holstered gun.

"Y'alright?" Rick asked, looking at Connie but glancing at Andrea for the answer.

"I'm fine." Connor said, taking the cigarette from his lips and holding it between his fingers.

Rick nodded and focused his eyes solely on Connor. "Daryl told me what happened, at the hardware store."

Connor sighed and looked down with a slight nod. "Did he?"

Rick nodded. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"Merle? Did y'want him dead?"

"Does it matter?"

Rick sighed and then gave Connor a nod. "It does to Daryl."

Connor shook his head. "Even if I wanted him dead I didn't kill him, right?"

Rick just stared at Connor, seeing the state he was in and how tired the man seemed. Rick gave him a nod and made to turn around but he stopped. "Connor, whatever happened, You did a lot today. A lot that can help keep us alive." He reached forward setting his hand on his shoulder. "Thank you."

Connor gave a nod when Rick stepped back. "It doesn't matter." He said as he lifted his cigarette to his lips. "You all still doing repairs?" He asked, wanting to push aside the thought of Merle.

Rick nodded. "Yeah. We are."

Connor gave something of a smile before he walked past them and outside. Once he was out back of the prison he threw the cigarette to the ground and stomped it out.

He saw Daryl before he made another move and he was frozen suddenly standing there. He wasn't working, he was leaning his weight on the wood board they would use to patch up the exposed part of the prison. His crossbow was laying near by and the wings on the back of his vest were more prominent in the harsh sunlight. He'd never noticed it before. What was it? A slap in the face to him? The angelic symbol at the back of this mans vest? A slap in the face of his wavering faith?

He let out a low breath and made to turn away. He would just help around a little later, these people didn't need anymore problems on their hands, especially not another fight.

"Y'dont have to go." Daryl said without turning around, he lifted the board up then, the bruises dark on his knuckles. "Y'hand me the hammer?"

Connor froze, the sound of Daryl's voice catching him off guard. He moved though, grabbing the hammer and holding it out to him. The deafening sound of the hammer to the nail was almost excruciating and brought several walkers over to the gate because of the noise. He watched Daryl exert himself, slamming the hammer to the nail until it was securely in. He repeated the motion with the other few nails in his hands before he dusted them off and finally turned to look at Connor but he didn't meet his eyes. He couldn't.

Connor couldn't say anything. His face ached more than it had when the punches had actually been thrown but he wasn't angry.

"I don't blame you." Daryl began, his voice low and his gaze dropped.

"Daryl..."

Daryl shook his head and lifted his eyes. "I just...well I had all this anger towards him, so much happened between us that I-" he took a deep breath and looked away. "- I haven't forgiven him. Or I didn't." The heaviness in his heart shone through the blue of his eyes. He was broken and now that the anger had passed guilt rested there. Their relationship had been nowhere near like Connors had been with Murphy and the effects of it followed after his death.

"His death..." Connor began, touching to the cross that rested against his chest beneath his shirt,

Daryl shook his head and set down the hammer he was holding. He lifted his crossbow, pulling it over his shoulder and looked Connor in the eyes.

"Did Rick tell you?" He asked, wanting to dust away the previous words he had spoken.

Connor shook his head , his brows tensing together with question.

"He needs our help with something." He replied, walking off back towards the prison.

Connor followed after him, his hand still pressed against the cross he wore. The guilt rose up inside of him,, the uncertainty. He was being allows a chance here though, a lengthened time to finish the path of vengeance he needed to take.


	18. 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright...let's thicken the plot just a bit. Don't wanna let things run too slow!

He walked behind Daryl, trying not to focus his eyes on the vest he wore. He didn't want to be reminded, didn't want to think of the faith that he couldn't find. He could blame the world as it was all he wanted but it perhaps in some small way it had always been there. It had been there when they had lost their da, lost and confused he and Murphy had been unsure what to do after that. Lost faith behind the bars of the prison. When would it be renewed? Why couldn't he find it?

They stopped where Rick was. Michonne was there too, her eyes silently observing anything that would happen. Connors curiosity rose up as he wondered what Rick was up to.

"What is it?" Daryl asked, looking across at Rick as he leaned against the gate, his hand holding the strap of his crossbow.

Connor looked at Daryl then and saw the differences from Murphy. The sun was blaring down on him and he noticed the hardness of his face, like even before all this he had lived the hardest of lives. In his eyes was a deeply embedded sorrow that seemed to emanate from him. Where Murphy was lively, always the exciting part of the many stories he had. Murphy was the epitome of actual life. Even after the walkers had started to roam the earth, he had kept his head up, looking forward to the end of it all. Keeping the faith that they would make it through.

"We have the prison nearly all boarded up, should be able to keep this place standing." Rick began, looking between the three people there. "But I don't think that its enough."

"What do you mean?" Connor questioned, reaching into his coat pocket for a cigarette. The heat was getting to him, making him more tired than usual. Perhaps it was the beating he had taken, the toll that had fallen on him.

Rick took a breath and looked off towards the walkers., "I'm meeting The Governor tomorrow."

"For what?" Connor asked without lighting the end of his cigarette, he simply held it between his fingers.

"To discuss the terms of this...war." Rick replied, his nervousness choking at his own words.

Connor sighed, looking over at Daryl for maybe a word of disagreement but Rick was obviously the leader here. Why would there be any disagreement?

"Do you know what he could do to you?" Connor questioned, looking back to Rick.

Rick nodded. "Oh I know." There was an anger in his eyes that wouldn't be quenched until The Governor was killed. He saw it also in Daryl, in Michonne. Would they agree to let Connor do it in his own way? he couldn't risk letting that out yet.

"So what's the plan then?" Connor asked, reaching into his pocket for a light.

Daryl drifted his eyes from Rick to Connor. "We kill him." He replied as if the plan had been silently communicated between the two men.

"His men will be there, surrounding you. How are you going to risk it?"

"Same way we risk surviving." Michonne said, earning a nod from Daryl.

"I'm going to need someone there before everyone else. Daryl, you're the quietest shot." Rick spoke the plan like he had been thinking it for days but there was a hesitance there in his voice. What was it? Did he not trust himself?

"And just like that? You kill him?"

Rick nodded. He looked nearly as bad as Connor did, save the bruises but those were on the man's soul, Connor knew that. The whole group was scarred beyond their breaking point. The Governor had made a mistake to mess with the likes of them.

"Who are you taking? Not just Daryl?"

"Daryl will come with me, Hershel will drive. But I'm gonna need you and Michonne waiting on the road for us, just in case." His hand set on his gun, he was eager to do this.

"And here? Who's going to hold it down with you gone?" Connor was surprised how worried he suddenly felt about leaving this group without some of their best shots. Was it okay to get attached to a group suddenly? Guilt rose up. He wasn't supposed to not with Murphy gone. He wouldn't want Connor to be alone though. no but he wanted to be.

"Andrea, Glenn and Maggie are more than capable. We get in, get out. Won't take long."

Connor nodded even though the risk of it seemed too high. Too many lives were at stake for this to be screwed up but he knew a shot was a shot and a man in Rick's position had to take it.

"You in?" Daryl asked, looking to Connor with- what? Hope? Hope for him to agree?

connor sighed as he brought a flame to the end of his cigarette. He didn't want to do it this way. he had a path to finish. The Governor was his to kill and he had every right to pull the trigger. He could work around this plan to fit himself into it.

"Aye." He said, smoke blowing out from between his lips. "I'm in."

Rick nodded, some of the hesitance easing up in his eyes. Leadership was natural for him but it hadn't been his choice. "Good. We leave tomorrow when the sun rises. " He walked back into the prison after that and so did Michonne, leaving Connor standing there with Daryl. The sun a blister to his already aching body.

"You got anymore?" Daryl asked, gesturing to the cigarette in Connor's hands.

Connor reached in for his pack. "Only six more." He slipped one out and handed it over. "Use it wisely."

Daryl laughed at that and set it on his lip, letting Connor strike a flame to it. He took a long pull and let out the smoke in a long breath. "Been a long time."

Connor just nodded and took a pull of of his own. The last time had been with Murphy before Woodbury they had been finding cigarettes. Damn cigarettes, that's why things went downhill. He looked at the cigarette with a bit of disdain but he didn't throw it down.

'I'll be quick.' Murphy had said. 'ain't my fault you decided to drop our last pack with that plan to get through that party.'

A party. Murphy had called a horde that. His eyes brightening a little as he fired off his gun to clear the way. Connor knew he was just trying to get him in better spirits. Every man, even Murphy had to falter in faith and hope sometime though, didn't they?

"Thanks for agreeing." Daryl said, the cigarette hanging between his fingers.

Connor gave a bit of a shrug. "Don't mention it."

"Wouldn't have blamed you if y'had bolted after earlier."

"No, I've had worse trust me. But you did give a better blow than The Governor."

Daryl gave a half smile and a slight nod. "Figured that."

Connor let the silence drift on between them, the Summer a presence all around. He didn't want to think. He didn't want to bring himself down from the hardness he had to wrap himself in if he was going to stray off of Rick's plan, ruin the way things were supposed to be mapped out. He knew that would have its consequences, as everything did but he had to do it. It was his calling. He had to do it for his brother, for the revenge his brother deserved.

"You think we can pull this off?" Connor asked, throwing the cigarette down and stubbing it out with his shoe.

Daryl didn't have to think he just gave him a nod in response. "We can."

Connor nodded, pushing his hand back through his hair. "Have you ever killed a man? Not a walker but a man." He looked into his eyes, curiosity filling his eyes. He had killed so many men in his past but those had been justified killings. Those men had been killers, rapers, mafioso's. He and Murphy had been in prison for murder but had it truly been that?

Daryl shook his head, flicking the ash off the cigarette. "Can't say I have."

"Maybe you ought to keep it that way." Connor said as he turned on his heel and made to walk back to the prison.

"What do y'mean?" Daryl asked as he caught up with Connor.

Connor just shook his head, wanting to somehow confide in Daryl the plan that was swirling around in his head but he knew he shouldn't. Daryl wouldn't like it, he wouldn't agree with him that it was the right thing. Tomorrow was the day it would all play out and Connor had to grab a hold of his faith again if he was going to make it through it.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright here comes the plan. Hope that I do it right!

Morning peaked and Connor lifted his bag up over his shoulder. He was ready to leave, anxious to actually. In the bag was just a few guns Rick had asked him to bring along. If they were going into hostile territory they were going to be fully armed.

Daryl had already left, Rick had sent him off when the skies were still dark. Rick hadn't slept, that was obvious from the way his eyes looked, the dark circles surrounding them. He was going to over exhaust himself if he continued this way.

Connor had slept a little, the pains in his body too much to deal with. His sleep was interrupted, dreams of worry clouding his mind. If he didn't do this himself this plan was going to fall apart. He had to pull the trigger. If he didn't then that hole that had been created inside of him was never going to be whole again. He would be empty, the need for revenge leaving him with a wound that would have no tourniquet.

He had dreamed of Murphy, of the years before they had been the Saints. Boston had been their home, they had never forgotten Ireland of course but Boston, well living there really offered them both something else. They had known almost everyone, taking a liking to them almost immediately. Murphy had always been the first one to approach people, his liveliness able to attract just about anyone. Connor himself had never been too serious but he never possessed that certain thing that people flocked to. Murphy had all of that.

What was he now then without the other half of his own soul? His brother had the last part of him that had been alive. A million shatter pieces, a million shards of who he used to be. All he felt was sorrow, all he breathed was pain. If that ever faded than all he would feel would be the numb. He prayed for that day, for the point in life when all pain would just fade. What would he be left with then? The dull ache of being alone, of being left with only himself. It was never supposed to be this way.

"You're leaving already?" Andrea softly asked, standing between him and the door. She looked tired too, so unsure of everything that was happening.

"Rick said when the sun rises." Connor replied with a nod, adjusting the bag on his shoulder.

Andrea nodded, a sigh escaping her lips as she folded her arms across her chest. "Be careful." She said meeting his eyes.

Connor gave her a slight smile, a mere breath that barely even glinted in his eyes. He could see her apprehension and it only made his own grow. "Im always careful." He tried to assure her or was he trying to assure himself?

She returned his smile hesitantly. "Take care of them." She said, gesturing over to where Rick and Michonne were readying to leave. She was scared, he could see that.

"I'll bring you friends back to you." He promised, hoping that was something he could keep. It wasn't just this group that had been through so much, so had she. She was broken, trying to hard to remain strong. If she lost someone else would she even be able to survive?

She smiled, grateful and soft. "Bring yourself back too." She said reaching her had out and gently touching to his arm. She was so vulnerable, so in need of something that would assure her that she was alive.

He looked down at her arm, his eyes lingering there before he looked into her eyes. Could he reciprocate something he could barely even wrap his own head around? Things were so complicated now, nearing the shattering point. If he took a step forward with her hand in his he would find they would both end up falling,

"No worries then." He said, his gaze softening and his hand closing over hers. He had never met anybody like her,, had never met a woman with the kind of vulnerable strength that she had. And that wasn't just the apocalypse talking.

She smiled up at him and then gently pulled her hand from his when Rick came over to them. She gave Rick a smile and he returned it with a nod before she left them alone.

"We ready?" Connor asked after watching Andrea walk away.

Rick nodded. "We are."

Michonne was the first to leave out the door followed by both Rick and Connor. The sun hit down on them, glinting off the surface of the car. The walkers could be heard, those dead groans a constant distraction from one's own deaths.

"So, you and Andrea." Rick said looking over at Connor as he put his bag into the backseat.

Connor looked to him and gave a bit of a shrug before he let the thought fade to the back of his mind. This was a mission, had to be treated as one. No distractions, no worries, no life in their mind. It was only this plan, kill in The Governor. That's all that there was.

"Daryl's already there?" Connor asked as he pulled his own bags from off his shoulder.

Rick nodded. "Been there awhile. I'm going in that car with Hershel. You and Michonne will stop before we do. Stay on the road, stay alert."

"Won't you need us if they open fire on you?" Connor questioned as Michonne got into the empty car behind him

"They won't even know its happened." He replied, his hand resting on his gun. "We'll be fine. I'm gonna make sure its as quiet and quick as possible." There was still a hesitance in his eyes, in the tone of his voice. He was scared he wouldn't survive this, that he wouldn't come back to his children, his group. He had every reason to be afraid, no one could blame him.

"Rick this is gonna work, alright?" Connor's eyes filled with reassurance as he firmly assure the man of it. "We're gonna make it through. No more blood will be shed. No one's but The Governor's."

Rick sighed and nodded. "We better get going." He said, nothing able to ebb away the hesitance he was feeling.

Connor nodded and watched him leave before he got into the passenger seat of the car with Michonne. He looked anxiously out of the window, afraid for his plan to fall apart. If he couldnt find his faith and hope was lost to him then revenge was all he had left.

A few minutes had passed, no much longer. Connor was sitting in the passenger's seat, his hand set on his gun already, just in case something happened. He was more than anxious, it was taking too long wasn't it?

Glancing over at Michonne, who hadn't said a single word, he sighed. Rick had said quick, nothing about this was quick.

Reaching into his coat he pulled out his cigarettes and took one out. "You mind?" He asked Michonne which earned him a quick shake of her head.

He nodded gratefully before lighting the end of the cigarette and let out the smoke. Nothing eased him though no matter how much he wanted it to. Too many images crowded his mind, too many things tore him apart. Nerves were one thing and fear was another. He had both rushing through him and it drove him insane to feel it. He had lost Murphy, the one person he had always assumed would be. He had lost him and the thought of losing someone else to Woodbury was wrecking.

Opening the door he stepped out and had a look around. It was so quiet, so undisturbed, so potentially dangerous. Walkers could be anywhere, the threat was always present.

"What are you doing?" Michonne asked as she came up beside him. He hasn't even heard the doors open.

"Look I've got something to do, would you mind waiting here?" Connor glanced at her, putting the cigarette to his lips again.

"Where are you going? Rick said to wait here."

Connor shrugged, took another pull and walked off. "Things have to get done." He said, walking away from her. She didn't follow and he was glad for that. He had to do this on his own.

He knew where Rick would be meeting with The Governor, he had circled Woodbury on watch for hours sometimes while he still lived behind those walls. The fear raging inside of him made him wonder if he shouldnt have stayed there. No, he couldn't have. Evil was evil, he couldn't abide by that kind of living.

He found the place, seeing that Hershel was there and so was Martinez, Milton. Swallowing down nervously he moved around to the back of the room that Rick and The Governor were in. He slipped inside, his gun in his hand feeling heavier than usual. He heard their voices and nearly cringed at The Governor's. It angered him to hear it, to know he was still alive.

In the shadows of the back of the warehouse he saw Daryl and slowly, quietly made his way beside him.

"Hey..." He called out softly, looking over at Daryl.

Daryl stared at him in shock, his hands steady on his crossbow. "What the hell are y'doing here man? Where's Michonne?"

"Let me do it." He said firmly, pushing at his crossbow and lifting his own gun.

"No, get out of here. You're gonna ruin everything."

Connor just stared at him but kept his gun trained on The Governor. "I have to." He breathed out, getting him in his line of sight. Perfect aim.

"Connor don't" Daryl called out in a harsh whisper.

Connor didn't listen, his vengeance taking over as he pulled the trigger. It caused an eruption of panic. He lowered his gun to see his result. The Governor had moved. Connor had missed.


	20. 20

Connor stood almost frozen as he stared down at Rick shouting over to Daryl. He had the Governor somewhat restrained but he was quickly getting out of his grip. Daryl rushed away from Connor, a glare heavy in his eyes as he went past him to help Rick.

Connors hand was wrapped tight around his gun, his breathing heavy as he watched Rick struggle with his mistake. He had him in his sight, how the hell had he missed? He never missed. He just stared at The Governor before Daryl came towards him, urging him to come and help them.

There was pounding on the doors, The Governor's men shouting and wanting to know what was going on. Rick had slammed the doors, locked them, smart enough. But it was The Governor they were all worried about now. He was big enough to overcome Rick, strong enough to give both Rick and Daryl a hard time. Connor came towards them, gripping his gun tightly and slamming it hard into the back of his head. Blood spotted out and he slumped in Ricks arms.

"What are we gonna do with him?" Daryl questioned, his eyes shooting towards the doors being banged on.

Rick looked up at the doors and heard as The Governor slowly was beginning to come to. He looked to Daryl, letting out a long sigh and he cursed under his breath. He rose up, checking his guns chamber as he turned to Connor with a dark look in his eyes.

"Y'stupid bastard!" He shouted, rubbing harshly at his forehead as he turned away and tried to think of what to do, how to figure all of this out.

"He was mine!" Connor nearly shouted but Daryl quickly rose up, pushing at his chest.

"Shut up, y'did enough now shut the hell up!" He shouted in his face.

Connor moved forward, aiming his gun down at The Governor, who was slowly opening his eyes. "We will kill him now." He nearly shouted, cocking back the trigger.

"Don't sound too much like a bad idea." Daryl said, looking to Rick to see what he thought.

Rick made to nod but the sound of battering came from the doors. "Take care of them first." He said, pulling his Python and cocking it back.

Daryl nodded to him and walked beside him towards the doors. Rick pulled them open, glancing out at the four men standing there, confusion on their faces. They looked behind them for The Governor and when they didn't see him they drew their weapons, suspicion having already been raised.

Daryl was the first to fire, an arrow catching into his neck before he fell back. One of the men shot at them, Rick ducked, his hand reaching up on instinct before he fired off his gun. The bullet landed in the guys head, the blood lying out as his body fell limp to the ground. Another guy charged at Daryl but Daryl was quicker, pulling his knife and getting him in the throat. The final guy had rushed at Rick, his blade slashing at Rick's arm making him hiss loudly before he got him by the throat. He didn't look into his eyes, he pulled his knife with his free hand and dug it through his chest. The guy groaned out and fell when Rick pulled the knife out again.

Daryl stepped out, looking around and finally only Hershel. He nodded over to Rick as he wiped the blood from the knife onto the side of his pants. Rick went further inside, looking to Connor who still had his gun trained on The Governor. Hershel inched inside, his crutches making dull noises on the ground.

"Is it over?" Hershel asked, a sort of hopefulness in his voice as he looked about the three men and then down at The Governor. "Is he dead?"

Rick shook his head, glancing up at Connor, his eyes hardened and yet not entirely angry. Had he understood Connor's need to kill The Governor himself? It was for Murphy, only those who had lost someone could know.

"Things took a wrong turn." Rick explained as he went to stand next to Connor. "Are y'going to do it?"

Daryl's and Hershel's eyes turned to him, waiting for what he was going to do.

Connor nodded, his finger sliding to the trigger. He made to pull it until finally The Governor stirred. His eyes shot open and looked around the room confused. His hand moved to the back of his head, pulling his fingers away to find spots of blood. 

Rick stepped forward immediately, moving Connor out of the way almost protectively it seemed. There was some kind of attachment formed between him and this group but he couldn’t really bring himself to figure out why. Even Daryl looked at him differently than he had when Merle had first died. It was as if he had fallen into something and had gotten up, scarred all over and yet better off.

“What the hell happened?” The Governor asked as he shakily rose to his feet.

Rick pressed his gun to the back of his head, the barrel shining in the dim light of the storehouse. His jaw was tense and his eyes showed the same kind of need that Connor’s did. He wanted this man dead, wanted him to pay for every single thing he had done to his group. He wanted him to pay for making the prison unlivable. He had attacked it so many times it only felt like a war zone by now.

The Governor, although still dazed, held his hands up and looked over his shoulder at Rick, the barrel of the Python messing with the strands of hair at the back of his head.

“Y’really gonna to kill me?” He questioned, a light smirk appearing on his smug face.

Connor made to step forward but Daryl immediately held him back. Out of what? Protection? Irritation? Fear? Rick could handle it, was what his eyes said, he always does.

“I am.” Rick replied with a firm nod of his head. His hands didn’t shake. He wasn’t faltering. He was going to pull the trigger and nothing at all would stop him.

“And nothing I cam say will stop you, huh?” He didn’t look at Rick any longer, instead his eye found the bodies of his men strewn on the ground. Connor’s gaze followed and he wondered if he felt something of loss seeing that or were these just pawns in his master plan?

That’s when Connor noticed Martinez’s absence. His brows tensed and he turned to look at Rick and then both Daryl and Hershel. If Martinez had gotten away then he would tell the rest of The Governor’s arms what had happened here, bring them back and kill them. 

“Nothing at all.” Rick assured him, pressing the barrel closer to his skin.

The Governor hissed and pulled away from the cold feeling before his shoulders slumped. “Might as well make it my final words then.”

“Make what your final words?” Rick urged, his eyes cold and darkening with each word that The Governor spoke.

The Governor turned his eyes and finally found Connor’s, that same smug smile on his lips. “Think you’re gonna wanna hear this.” He said.

“What is it?” Rick demanded , his patience wearing thin. He wanted to pull the trigger. He wanted to get this over with.

“There’s a cure.”

The words echoed in Connor’s head. Confusion, surprise, anger flooding through him. He was staring at The Governor willing it to be both truth and a lie. He couldn’t believe him. How could any of them think to trust him?

“There isn’t a cure.” Rick stated with a small shake of his head. The disbelief coursed through the blue of his eyes but he was struggling with it.

Daryl had looked up, so had Hershel. Their eyes filling with equal confusion. Could they believe it? This light of hope coming from the darkest of lips?

“Oh but there is! If y’would just put that gun away and let me talk to you man to man….”

Rick looked to Connor but he just couldn’t look back. Murphy. A cure. He could have lived. If he had been told about this cure, then there wouldn’t have been any need for a bullet to the back of his head.

He saw red from that point, the darkened look in his eyes propelling him forward. He shot towards The Governor, grabbing him by the coat and throwing him down onto the ground. He shouted words down into his face, throwing the blame of Murphy’s death onto his shoulders. Was it really The Governor’s the fault? Was it really Woodbury’s? Or had it fallen solely on his own shoulders? Was it really his fault for having lost him on the way? Had it been his fault for allowing them to separate? And that was the cause of all his anger, the fact that the blame was his alone. That was the cause of the torture, the blistering pain. The blame laid with him. No one else but him.

“Connor! Stop!” Daryl shouted, reaching down and trying to pull him off of The Governor. 

The Governor shoved him off and scrambled away, pushing a hand back through his hair once he was on his feet. He turned his eyes to Rick and held them steadily. “Are y’going to control your man?”

“He isn’t my man.” Rick simply replied, glancing to Connor. He wasn’t going to hold him back. 

The sound of trucks pulling up stole everyone’s attention. Rick looked to Connor, stepping forward, his eyes filled with a glare. 

“Tell them to stand down.” Rick ordered.

The Governor smirked and nodded. “First you gotta tell me you’ll let me live. Can’t know if I’m telling the truth unless I’m alive.”

Rick looked at him, then around at everyone else before he reluctantly nodded. “No one’s killing you. Not yet.”


	21. 21

The civilians of Woodbury watched worriedly and with fear as they led The Governor at gun point towards the building where Milton's lab. Every now and then The Governor would say something to his people, tell them things were going to be alright and that the threat would be over soon. Rick didn't say anything to stop him, knowing the people needed reassurance unless they wanted some sort of riot on their hands. But with every word of false hope that The Governor gave his people Rick pressed the gun he held to him further against his skin. The Governor would hiss at the feeling and then let out a bit of a laugh. He wasn't afraid, he really couldn't bother to be.

Connor walked behind Daryl, having to have him in between himself and The Governor or else he would likely explode. He knew that he had been the reason that the plan had been ruined. He knew that if he had just listened to Rick than things would have gone according to plan. He had screwed up, he understood that. He could see his mistake walking smugly ahead of them, leading the way. But he also knew that he had to do it. He had to give himself the shot to end this, whether he missed or not. Pulling the trigger had sent a surge of life through his dead body, the nearing taste of revenge the sweetest thing he had ever felt.

He couldn't help but wonder though what would happen after this. Would they allow him to stay with the group after he had deliberately went against Rick's plan? Would they let him tag along per se even though he had taken his own interests over everyone else's. Because killing The Governor didn't just benefit one person. Killing him meant a bit of peace for everyone. It meant freeing this town of the tyranny that existed behind its gate. It meant giving the group at the prison a fair chance to survive. It meant freedom for every side. He had ruined that and although he knew he was going to have to live with that he couldn't quite say he regretted it.

There was only one thing that he did regret and that was the thought of what Murphy would think if he were to see him now. If he were to know the lengths of revenge he was taking. He was putting other people at risk, he knew that. They were supposed to be protectors of the innocent, cleaning up streets of the evil that slept with it. They were supposed to be Saints and yet here he was throwing others in the line of fire just so he could know that he had avenged a murder that wasn't really on anyone else's head. He had been at fault, Murphy had been at fault. No one else had separated them but each other, for a damn lousy pack of cigarettes. They had often times felt invincible walking among the dead. God was on their side, He would protect them. Being arrogant was never really the way to go, especially not when one's own faith was waning.

Swallowing back those thoughts he saw the lab come into view. A cure. Could it be true? Everyone knew by then that no matter what happened they were all infected, they knew that in the end nothing was going to save their lives. Turning was everyone's fate. Nothing could prevent it.

Did he believe in this cure? He didn't believe in a damn thing that came out of The Governor's mouth. But he could see the hope in Rick's eyes, the hope in Daryl's. These were good people. There had to be hope for them somewhere. If there was a cure than that would mean that Rick could save his children and everyone else in the group. It meant striving just a little harder towards the light that was so dim at the end of the twisted and fatal road they all dragged themselves down. Seeing all the broken people that lived in the prison he knew that he had to hold out hope. But what happens if he lost hope in the one source that mattered most? What happens if he lost hope in God?

Daryl looked back at him then, breaking the spell of his thoughts. They were nearing the building, getting closer.

"Thank your God we're here." He said, making Connor's eyes shoot to him with disbelief.

"You believe in God?" Connor asked, surprised as he held Daryl's gaze.

He shrugged a little and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Never did before all this, hell I didn't believe in nothing. But now, you're a man of God, ain't you? Guess He's on our side now." It seemed like there was a faint smile trying to appear on his lips just then.

Connor wasn't sure what to say. Daryl was in his position. His brother had died, had been ripped apart while he stood helpless atop a roof. He had to hear Merle's screams and could do nothing at all to help him. And yet there he was, holding out hope for the faith that Connor felt his own self slipping away from.

The Governor turned to look at Rick, his lips carrying that challenging smug smile that had never faded. "Here we are gentlemen." He said, his eyes never leaving Rick's. For some reason he was enjoying this. Liking the feeling of being such a threat.

Connor couldn't understand what Andrea had seen in this man. He was full of sadistic arrogance. The need to do something horrendous in order to survive. He was making excuses for himself. Hurting the innocent and for what? For his own gain, for his needs. He was throwing people in the line of fire, not caring at all who exactly would get burned.

He dropped his eyes from looking at him, feeling his own thoughts and distaste of The Governor hit far too close to home. He wasn't like him. No he wasn't like him at all. He was doing this for Murphy and he had God on his side, didn't he? All while throwing everyone in the line of fire, just like The Governor. He heavily sighed. I'm nothing like him.

Rick urged The Governor into the lab, his jaw tense and a glare settled heavily in his eyes. He wasn't playing any games. One wrong move from The Governor and he was dead. It was simple as that. Rick had reached his breaking point and seeing that sort of madness in his eyes made Connor glad. This wasn't a peace bargaining, this was war. Man to man war.

The Governor led the way in, opening the doors and stepping inside. His arms made a wide sweeping gesture like he was showing off the room before he returned his eyes back to Rick.

"Take a good look gentlemen this is where our salvation lies. Y'think this was how the world fell too? From the bottle of a vial, in the mixing of chemicals?" He questioned, looking this time at all three men as if it were some sort of open discussion.

"I have it on good authority that it was an act of God." Rick stated, his brows lifting with both threat and accusation.

"Why would God raise the dead? Let them feast on his children's bodies?"

"To separate the chaff from the wheat." Connor stated, looking up finally into The Governor's eye.

He chuckled, staring down Connor before turning his eyes back to Rick. "And let me guess..." He began, his grin widening. "Y'all are the wheat and I must be the chaff. Should I fall to my knees to beg for forgiveness? Or is it too late for a soul like me?"

Rick didn't answer, he just held his eye and listened to his words.

"I wanna tell y'something." The Governor said, looking at Rick closely. This was their talk, their fight. "Whatever happens there is no God, not anymore. We take control of who we are. No one else. No higher power."

Again Rick made no reply. Was he trying to make him lose faith? Was he trying to steer him from the path he was currently on? There was a reason why The Governor spoke only to Rick. Daryl had spoken out about whatever faith he had come to have and Connor felt lost in his faith. Was Rick in the middle? Wavering between death and life? Was this what was all this was?

"Where's the cure?" Rick demanded, not paying attention to The Governor's words. Or perhaps he did but there were just no words or reason to acknowledge them.

"I'll give y'that cure, Rick." He threw his name out carelessly, like he was kicking around a ball that held no direction. "But first y'have to do something for me."

Rick let out an inaudible sigh, his jaw tensing again as his eyes dropped with a bit of a nod. "What?"

Connor observed. His eyes moving between Rick and The Governor. Something didn't feel right. Something told him that this wasn't going to end with a happy ending. Nothing never did. Not before and definitely not now. The world hadn't changed that much. People's real nature only started to show more.

"I'll give y'the cure to save your children, your group...but I want something in return." Another smirk appeared on his lips. "I want Michonne..." The smirk grew into an actual smile just then. "...and I want Andrea."


	22. 22

Connor was fuming. His anger was something he couldn't quite keep down but he bit down on the inside of his cheek anyways. He knew that an outburst right now would only ruin his chances of getting The Governor but the line between keeping calm and letting it all out was slowly breaking. He was more than angry, close to belligerent. His head was spinning with it, his very composure was breaking apart. He tried to watch the scenery of the rural place they drove through to help him breathe just a little but he knew that control was something that he needed.

He glanced at Rick, his fingers tight on the material of his coat. The car was silent. The Governor was no longer in their grasp. He looked over at Michonne who was quietly sitting there beside him in the backseat. He wondered if she was angry as he was. He knew that she also wanted him dead for the things he'd done to her, the things he'd forced them all to live with. But even to her he couldn't surrender his own need to kill The Governor. He had to be the one to pull the trigger. He had to be the one to avenge his brother's death.

Swallowing down harshly he tried to ignore the thought again. It was his own fault, his fault Murphy and he had split. His fault that there was a bullet in the back of his head. The cure. He could have been cured. If there was a cure Murphy didn't have to die. But it was done, it had happened. Nothing in life could be reversed. Nothing at all could be mended. This was the way things were now. He was the empty man who was void of all life. His brother was gone and with him the part of him that had been whole.

Did they all really believe in this cure? It was Woodbury that harbored it, The Governor that presented it. Could they even lay their trust in that? Or were they all just scrambling for another pipe dream that would fall apart once they took ahold of it? They weren't fools, none of them were, especially not Rick. But a cure meant survival. A cure meant a change to the dark world they had been sucked into. But what did that change mean? At what cost would it be provided?

Finally the prison came into view and Rick pulled the car through the opened gates that Carl held open. They were slammed shut as Rick killed the engine. He got out, immediately putting his arm around Carl's shoulders. His eyes were full of twisted helplessness. He wanted that cure. He was a man with a family who had lost too much already. Could he survive losing anyone else? But he knew what the right thing was. Connor took him as a man of conscience. He could see that in the man's eyes. Would he take into consideration the horrors Michonne and Andrea would have to face were he to hand them over?

Connor didn't look at Rick when they headed into the prison. It wasn't the thought of handing over the two women that caused the anger he was so strongly feeling. It was the fact that they had had The Governor in their hands. They were so close to destroying the threat that was preventing their survival. Hadn't Rick seen that? That he had been so close and he himself had snatched it away from their hands so easily? Hadn't he known that with The Governor still alive they were now all at risk to no longer live another day? Did he not know that fear?

Once again in the prison Connor went to retreat to the cell he had been assigned to but the sound of Rick's voice halted him. Everyone gathered around their leader and waited on what he would tell them. Connor turned around too, despite the need to let loose and vent. He slowly made his way to the group and stood beside Daryl, looking up at him without much emotion in his eyes. He wasn't sure how Daryl felt about this but he knew the bond he and Rick had, he didn't want to offend that.

Rick let out a low breath, his hands setting on his hips as he lowered his head a minute. He was burdened, the weight of what he had to do was slowly crippling him. He had to share it, didn't he? Let someone else heave the burden? Was that even possible to do? For a leader to let his group partake fo the load? Anyone could see the struggle in his eyes when he lifted them to look over everyone who was waiting on him.

"The Governor told us something." He said, his hand resting loosely on the holstered Python. He let a breath escape from his parted lips as he looked at both Andrea and Michonne. "He told us there's a cure and that it's in their labs in Woodbury."

Whispers. So many of them passed between each other. The only ones standing there, silently compliant to listen to Rick's coming words were Daryl, Connor and Michonne. There was something else ready to come off his tongue, he was just waiting for everyone to quiet down.

"He told us they would give it to us but he wants something in return." Rick's voice wavered, the thoughts were circling in his head, the solution. Every possible one moving from one side of his mind to the next. He was scrambling for something, knowing that his coming plan was going to send the people in a fearful flurry. They weren't going to feel safe but what could he do? It was the only way he knew how to do this. Trust would have to come and easy. If they trusted him at all it would be now that they would have to finally show it.

"What does he want?" Andrea asked, his brows furrowing lightly together as she held Rick's eyes. She was hesitant, moreso than anyone else. She, after all, had seen things that everyone else here had not.

Connor kept Rick in his gaze. He could see the struggle behind his features, could sense the trembling strength that had once been so strong. He was looking at Andrea with a plea in his eyes. He wanted everyone to be quiet until he finished speaking but everyone knew that was impossible. Especially with something this huge, this life changing.

"He wants you." He replied simply before his eyes trailed over to Michonne steadily. "And Michonne."

No one spoke, Rick got the silence he wanted but the quiet was so thick he was sure a bullet wouldn't be able to drown it out.

"And we're giving him what he wants." Rick went on, his head nodding a little as he looked between the two women. His eyes suddenly fell on Connor just then. What was his gaze trying to convey?

"You're...handing us over?" Andrea questioned, disbelief shining in her eyes. She knew what it was that would happen to them if Rick gave them over into The Governor's hands. It would be more than torture wouldn't it?

Rick let out a shaky sigh as he met Andrea's eyes again. His gaze quivered with faltering thoughts, weakening strength. He was breaking before all of them and he was at a loss for words, he didn't know how to answer Andrea, didn't know how to explain his plan. He gave her a simple nod in response. It was all that he could give.

They all watched as Rick turned away from them and headed out the prison doors. Everyone stood there, at a loss for words as they looked between each other. Connor's eyes found Daryl's and they both made their way to follow after Rick. He was standing near the gate, his fingers laced through the links and his head lowered. The space they had at the prison was wide and yet right now it felt like they were all suffocating.

"Rick?" Daryl called out, his voice unsure as he approached his friend.

Rick looked up at Daryl and gave him a bit of a nod of acknowledgment. Connor went over to them when Rick turned his eyes back out towards the walker ridden yard. He watched the walkers roam aimlessly and dead and he felt a bit of gratefulness that Murphy hadn't suffered that fate like these poor bastards had. He was able to rest with those worthy to be where he was. He hadn't turned and that alone was one light to the darkness he had fallen into. But that light had sputtered out when he thought again of the gunshot he had aimed into his brother's head.

"You can't be serious? Giving them both up? You know what he'll do to them?" Connor questioned, his voice heavy and full of disbelief.

Rick heavily sighed and lifted his eyes to him, flickering them over to Daryl and then to Connor again. "We'll let him think what he wants. He thinks we'll hand them over that's what he thinks. We need them to think that as well. But we- me, you and Daryl? We need to be ready to be the calm in the panic. He won't know what's coming." Rick stated, his eyes desperate and drawn. He had reached a hole and yet there was something pushing him to crawl up out of it.

"What are you saying?" Connor questioned. He felt something flutter to life again inside of him. He still had his shot. He'd botched Rick's original plan and yet here it was, getting fixed.

"War. We're bringing the war to him."

"Y'mean..?" Daryl began, his brows tensing a little as he looked at Rick with complete trust.

Rick nodded, his hand resting on his gun as he took a small sigh. "We're going to war."


	23. 23

The day had come and Connor stood watching as Rick handed out guns to everyone in the prison. They were looking at him as if he wasn't himself, looking at him like he was some sort of a monster. They didn't know what it was that he had in store for The Governor, they didn't know that he wasn't actually going to hand Andrea and Michonne over. After all this time Connor figured that they would have trusted him, that they would have known the kind of man he was but he also knew that this world changed people. He himself hadn't trusted Rick but then he found himself not trusting anything anymore.

He had to keep his mind on what needed to be thought about, what needed to be laid out. This was going to be his chance. His sole chance to redeem himself for the darkness that he had been drowning in for so long. He had his guns, he had the shot and all he had to do was take it. The problem was moving around Rick's plan and taking The Governor for himself. Murphy's death would be avenged and perhaps his soul could finally fall into rest. He needed that, needed to know that his path didn't end here.

Yet there was a foreboding feeling that echoed through him. A feeling that there wasn't anymore roads for him to walk down. What did that mean? What was going to happen after all of this was over? What tired sorrow awaited him? Was death going to seek him out? The thought creaked inside of him, the lost feeling of absence filled him. It couldn't be right, could it? Could things really cut off so abruptly? Well that had been his prayer after all, hadn't it? That he wouldn't live without his brother? Perhaps that dark foreboding was just his prayers being answered.

Did that mean he wanted to die? Was he to be damned with his feelings of lost condemnation? He longed for his penance, the one that would come and reap the result of all the things he had done to make him stray. The reasons for his loss of faith. It seethed inside of him and yet he still didn't grasp for the light. One way or another he was going to have to save himself but right now all that mattered was revenge. Cold, dark and sweet revenge.

Rick glanced towards him, a gun weighted in his hand as if he were offering it to him. Connor waved it off, his own hand touching to the gun tucked into his coat. He had his own, he had to use his own. Rick nodded in his direction and then continued giving out weapons until he finally got to Carl, his son. Connor watched, the conflicted fear written in the mans eyes as he knelt down to talk to his son who seemed to be growing colder by the minute. Colder and further. This world destroyed everything, even that.

He turned away from the sight and walked off towards the cell he had been given when he had come to stay. He let out a low sigh and sat on the sunken bed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. The cold and gray atmosphere resonated sharply inside of him. If he closed his eyes he could remember the nights he and Murphy had been in prison, the gates shut on them and the lights completely off. There hadn't been any noises during lights out, just the sound of the other breathing until Murphy would part his lips and whisper their prayer until they both fell asleep.

Connor had never thought he would survive prison, never be able to survive being locked away from the outside world. Yet he had. He had even survived their escape. Now he was locked in another sort of prison where his inmates were people he didn't know and the dead held the key to their release. He didn't just think he wouldn't survive this, somehow he knew. That thought both feared and soothed him. No more death, no more suffering and also no more living. His fate was conflicted and so was his soul.

"Hey..." Andrea's voice called out where she was leaning on the cell gate. Her eyes were drawn with betrayal and sorrow. She was stuck thinking that her friends were handing her over. That soon she was to suffer the fate of torture and death. It pained him to see her this way but he knew in order to keep Rick's plan running smoothly she had to be left in the dark for now.

Connor gave a smile that was merely a slight tug of the corners of his lips. "Hey..."

She entered the cell, giving the cold area a look around before sitting beside him on the bed. Her hands rested in her lap, Connor saw the slight shake of them.

"I'm scared." She whispered, her blue eyes becoming glassy as tears filled them. She didn't look at him, her eyes were ahead of her but her mind was elsewhere.

"Don't be." He was trying to assure her but how could he when she didn't know that she was going to live. When she didn't know that Rick would never hand her over so easily for a promise of a cure that probably wasn't even true.

"Don't be?" She questioned, her brows tensing together a little as she finally brought her eyes to him. "He's handing me over. When I came back I didn't think this would happen." She tucked her hair behind her ear as her lips pressed firmly together. "Phillip's going to kill me." She stated, her hands making a small gesture before she looked away.

He nodded a little in understanding of her fear before he reached his hand out, letting it rest on hers. The warmth from hers was a shock to the cold of his skin. She looked at him, her eyes resting on his as she tried so desperately to remain calm. Her tears fell one by one from her lashes, her bottom lip began to tremble. Her fear shone through as she wrapped her hand around his with a trembling grip.

"I'm so scared..." She whispered again as she leaned into his arms and let out a gasp of a cry.

Connor didn't know how to react, his arms hesitated before he held her to him. He didn't say a word, there weren't any left to say. He smoothed his hand over her mussed hair before the sound of footsteps approaching broke them apart.

Rick stood in the entryway of the cell, his fingers curled around the iron bars as he stared wordlessly at them. His hand was resting on his Python, his brows firmly set and his eyes pleading with Andrea for some sort of forgiveness. The guilt was strong in his eyes and sent a low trembling racing through him.

"Is it time?" She asked, accepting her fate without a struggle as she stood from the bed. Her hand lingered in Connor's until she finally pulled away and approached Rick. Her gaze was harsh with a low anger and yet there was a touch of understanding there as well. "Is it?"

Rick slowly nodded, unable to say anything in return. Connor watched the man feeling bad for him, for the position he was in. Everything was beginning to unravel and he was only trying to put a stop to it before death eventually became the result.

Rick turned on his heel and slowly walked away, leaving Connor and Andrea in the cell again. She didn't give him a last look before she left, her boots echoing away from the cell.

Connor let out a long sigh as he left after her, his head lowered and the silence ringing deafly in his ears. Today was the day everything would be set in motion. Today was the catalyst that their world would heed to. He wouldn't stand by idly to watch, he had to be bring the deliverance, he had to show them that this was his kill, his calling, no one else's.

They all headed out to the yard. Rick left half the group inside, armed and ready. He led the way, Daryl, Michonne, Andrea and Connor behind him. They could see the approach of trucks coming up from the otherside of the gates, The Governor and his men were here.

Rick looked back at Connor and Daryl, slowly unclipping his holster and drawing his gun out to rest at his side. "Let's go." He said, cocking back the trigger on the gun before turning back towards the trucks and leading the way.


	24. 24

Rick was standing in front of The Governor, his gun at his side and his hold trembling just a little. He was scared that he wasn't going to be able to pull this off. He was scared that The Governor was going to figure out what was going on and rip down the plan that Rick had secured. If it didn't work then everything would fall apart and their try for survival wouldn't last past this point. For this moment The Governor seemed to not notice, to not see that he was being tricked into thinking he was about to get his way.

Connor watched the exchange, his own anxiousness risen high inside of him. He looked between the two men, holding his own gun at his side with his nerves almost crippling him. He was waiting for his moment, that single moment when he could get his shot in and capture the revenge he'd been seeking. Connor's finger was inching towards the trigger, needing to get this over with.

"So, this is our big meet up." The Governor said, gesturing with his hand towards the small group of men they were surrounded by. There was a bit of a smile on his lips, his eye holding Rick's.

Rick looked back at Daryl and Connor, Andrea and Michonne before back to The Governor with a slight nod. "Y'brought some heavy guns." He said, looking towards The Governor's men who were armed with heavy military type guns, standing there like watchdogs. He wasn't scared though or at least he just didn't show it.

"Have to show you I take things seriously." He replied, a smirk making its way onto his lips before his eye looked behind Rick and caught sight of the two women he had asked for. The smile brightened and his features filled with a sadistic type of light. "You brought the cargo."

Connor heard Andrea take a long breath, trying desperately to compose herself while her fear mounted up inside of her. She was struggling to remain as she was, to not blow the one shot this group had at survival. Still she didn't know what Rick was planning, she didn't know she was to live. Her ability to stand there, seemingly unnerved amazed Connor.

"The cure?' Rick brought it up almost hesitantly. He didn't cast a look back at Andrea or Michonne, The guilt was there playing in his eyes even as he looked at The Governor.

The Governor smiled and slowly shook his head. "Not yet. Not until they're here, with me." He pointed to the ground in front of himself.

Rick stepped forward, his hand set on his Python as he stared unmoving at The Governor. "We had a deal." He stated firmly.

Again he shook his head, his smile still there. "I don't think we ever worked out the conditions of that deal. Did we? I want them now and you get your cure later."

Rick stared at him, looking back at Daryl who didn't so much as respond or give any indication of what he thought should happen. Rick was at a loss it seemed, unsure if he should trust handing them over without having what he came for in his hand.

He swallowed down harshly, lowering his eyes a moment before lifting them again. "Where is it?"

The Governor gestured back to the truck they had come in. "In there with Milton. He has it, holding it with all his care." That smile came back again but this time with a touch of annoyance. This was taking too long, he wanted it to be over so he could do what he had been planning since Andrea had left the prison, following on Michonne's heels.

Rick nodded a little before turning around, his back on The Governor as he walked slowly to Andrea and Michonne. He didn't look into their eyes, he couldn't bear to see the look of fear left in them, the look of a plea for him to take this plan back.

"We're ready." Andrea spoke up before Rick could, her blue eyes looking to Connor first before she tried to meet Rick's. They had softened, had she brushed her anger aside now knowing that this was what had to be done?

Rick nodded, looking to Daryl before he gestured the two women with him as he approached The Governor again. They stood behind Rick not moving a single inch as if they trusted this, as if they weren't afraid.

It was Connor who was nervous, him who was afraid. He wasn't sure what it was that Rick was planning, he hadn't told him. Only Daryl knew exactly what was going on. There were only four men behind The Governor, armed it seemed but not at all a match for him, in Connor's mind. He didn't even care if he got hurt as long as the plan was executed.

The Governor was talking to Andrea now, staring wickedly at Michonne. Daryl had gone to stand beside Rick. He assumed that he was supposed to protect the rear, hold his ground if anything happened. At this point something was happening and he was more than ready to end it.

Lifting his gun discreetly he wondered if he should take the men out first but he wanted The Governor. He wanted him. He could feel the need for the revenge surge up inside of him, tearing him apart bit by bit. He needed this, the nightmare, the agony would all end once this was done. He saw Murphy, that blackened bullet hold at the back of his head. The blood had gotten everywhere, the smoke of the gun. The crosses burned at his chest as he closed his eyes for a moment, trying desperately to whisper out the words to his prayer but not able to find the words. They were there, at the tip of his tongue but they wouldn't come out. His faith was nothing but tattered pieces hanging by a thread inside of him. He was lifeless without it.

His eyes opened again and his gun moved towards The Governor, the aim directly on him. His finger slowly moved to the trigger, cocking it back. All he saw was Murphy, the parting between them. That bite that had taken Murphy from him. There was guilt left behind at the thought, a sharp guilt that wouldn't leave him even in this moment. It wasn't The Governor's fault, it was his own. His own fault, if he had stopped him, if he had looked just a little harder.

He shook his head at the thought. He couldn't let that slip into his mind now, he couldn't let it fill his mind when this was the end. His fault or not The Governor had to die for everything he'd done. For the torture, the pain he had caused everyone other than Connor. And for that Connor let his finger do what he'd been dying to do for so long. He pulled the trigger.

Rick was about to turn to gesture Andrea ahead when the deafening sound of a gunshot rang through the air. He looked to see who had gotten hit. Which one of The Governor's men had disobeyed orders, what had The Governor planned that wasn't in his favor. But that's when he saw what everyone else did.

The Governor was clutching his hand to his chest, fear painted wildly in his eyes as the blood leaked through each of his fingers. He had hunched over before finally sinking to his knees. He fell on his side before rolling himself onto his back, his breath gasping out and his skin losing color. He was staring up at the expanse of sky above him, his eyes glazing over with the fear of what was happening to him.

His men were dumbfounded, staring between Rick and Daryl, Michonne and Andrea before finally their eyes rested on Connor. Rick turned to look back at him, his eyes drawn and his expression falling. He had been so close and now...now it was over. Everything Rick had been hoping for had now slipped out of his hands.

"Get back inside." He ordered Andrea and Michonne who shook their head at his command.

"I'm staying." Michonne said.

Heavily Rick sighed, making to go to Connor but he didn't make it fast enough before the bullets started flying. Bullets from where the truck had been parked, ones from the woods. The Governor had set up men everywhere, he was planning a massacre no matter what way this plan had gone.

"Take cover!" Rick shouted, pulling Andrea with him as they rushed towards the prison.

Connor stood there, his eyes trained on The Governor, the wind singing the song of the war that had now commenced. The Governor was staring up at him, his anger, his disbelief, his fading life evident in the look in his eyes. Connor stared down at him before a searing pain ripped through his shoulder and he fell down, his hand clutching to the bullet wound. He'd been hit and the surprise of it sent a choke laughter out from between his lips.


	25. 25

Daryl looked back, searching for Connor it seemed. He saw Rick pull Andrea back to the prison, saw Michonne stand her ground before the bullets started flying rapidly around them and she went to take cover like Rick had shouted out. But his worried eyes kept looking for Connor. He knew that there had been a strange look in his eyes when they had been standing there with the Governor waiting for the plan to commence. It was the darkly lit look of revenge that he had felt himself but had managed to brush off for the groups sake. Feelings like that got people in the way of danger and he couldn't have them suffer his own consequences.

His gaze finally found The Governor and near him was Connor. The Governor had a gaping bullet wound, the blood seeping into the overgrown grass beneath him. Connor was on the ground too, his hand gripping to the wound in his shoulder, ribbons of blood leaking through his fingers. His face was screwed up with pain, but there was a faint sound of a laugh coming from his lips as his eyes stared up into the cleared skies. He was in pain but there was a sharp contentment flickering in his features that was a bit shocking to see given his state.

Daryl dropped to his knees beside Connor, his hand pressing over Connor's at his shoulder, the blood warm as it touched his skin. He saw the chain of his cross tangled at his neck along with the second chain that no doubt belonged to his brother. Despite the look of contentment there was a darkness living in Connor's eyes still, one that he had dropped himself into without hesitance, without thinking of the results that came with such abandon.

"Connor, we gotta get y'back inside." Daryl said, looking out towards the prison despite the rain of bullets filling the air around them. His heart was racing knowing that he could be hit at any moment but he couldn't pay mind to that. He kept what Rick had said before in the back of his mind. No one was left behind. Not even someone who had just put their whole group in danger. "I need y'to get up." He ordered, looking down at the mass amount of blood that had poured out from Connor's wound. He was going to bleed out, the bullet had obviously hit something it shouldn't have.

Connor shook his head, a bit of panic rushing through his eyes where the weakness was laying too. His hand reached around, obviously searching for the gun he had dropped when he'd been hit. His body trembled with the pain but something else was on his mind. He needed to know his plan had worked, needed to know that his actions had gone the way he had envisioned them to. "The Governor." He breathed out hoarsely, eyes looking up at Daryl frantically. "Is he dead?" He demanded almost too harshly.

Daryl heavily sighed, looking up at The Governor who was still moaning out, the blood slipping from his lips. He shook his head, knowing that he should have perhaps lied about it. Knowing that he had yet to finish what he had set out to do was only going to get him into harms way more. He wouldn't stop until he saw his revenge was taken. The revenge for his brother no doubt. Daryl understood, how could he not? But there was a line one had to draw in order to get past the barrier of ruin. Daryl had seen Rick travel down that bleak and lifeless road but he had come back and yet he wasn't the same. Was the same thing going to happen also to Connor? Was he to sit and allow that darkness to swallow up another person while he could do nothing at all to help pull them back out again?

Connor groaned out, the pain fighting his strength as he rose up from laying down. His head spun, the crossed on his neck a weight against his chest. He was falling into the abyss, feeling the darkness claw at his skin and attempt to take him with it. He was beginning to falter but he couldn't let himself slip yet. He had to press on, needed to finish what had to be done. He saw Murphy at the back of his mind, those lively and yet troubled eyes. He was staring at Connor, wishing he wouldn't do this, hoping he wouldn't slip into this failed attempt of vengeance. He knew that he was supposed to listen to his brother, knew that whatever was filling that blue gaze was for the better, was ultimately for the result of where his soul would rest in the end.

He couldn't listen though, not now when the end of all of this was so near. He could taste the smell of gunfire in the air, could feel the smoke of the bullets caress across his cold skin. It reminded him of the day he and Murph had first encountered their da, his skills with his gun outmanning them completely. Reminded him of the night they had descended into The Roman's green house, the bullets flying everywhere, their da lifeless on the ground. He squeezed his eye on the memory. No more death. But all he got was image of Murphy lying pale and lifeless in Woodbury.

Daryl saw a bullet whistle towards one of The Governor's men and his eyes shot up to the watchtower. Rick was up there, his rifle trained and the scope level with his eye. Rick caught sight of Daryl, his arm waving about. "Get the hell outta there!" He shouted loudly before setting the rifle up again and taking another shot, sending another man to the ground. Rick was a perfect shot, getting each man that was looking to take out both Daryl and Connor for getting The Governor. But that still didn't stop the assault from the men around them.

He looked to see where Connor was but he wasn't lying there anymore. He had risen shakily to his feet, blood running down his shirt and dripping to the ground beneath him. He had his gun again in his hand, the black of it glinting in the overhead sun. He was approaching The Governor who was lying there gurgling on the blood spilling from his mouth. His hand was pressed firm to his wound but his life was fading quickly. He was dying but that wasn't enough, Connor had to do it, he had to be the one to end it.

Daryl was frozen as he watched Connor, Rick was shouting something in the distance but everything seemed to be lost to his senses. The darkness of revenge was propelling him forward, not a single falter in his step. He wondered what Connor's God would think of this moment, of him taking an outcome into his hands this way. This wasn't how things were supposed to go, this wasn't how things were supposed to end. He always thought that vengeance was the Lord's but seeing Connor now it seemed like that law made no difference to him. It was almost heartbreaking to see. Almost painful to witness the loss of faith that clouded Connor was he stood over The Governor.

"Connor! We have to go!" Daryl shouted out to him as he drew his crossbow up, loading another bolt and aiming it towards a man approaching them. "Connor come on!"

Connor didn't listen. He couldn't even hear. All he saw was The Governor still breathing, The Governor still alive. His anger raged in his eyes and he lifted the gun. He cocked the trigger. 'And Shepherds we shall be…' He aimed with the gun pointed at The Governor's head. 'For thee my lord, for thee…' He didn't deserve pennies on his eyes, there would be no entering heaven for him. 'Power hath descended forth from thy hands…' He stepped closer, his eyes darkening but his heart becoming lighter as he felt his vengeance being realized. 'Our feet may swiftly carry out thy commands…' The Governor found his eyes and he shook his head up at him. 'A river we shall flow unto thee…' Connor couldn't help the smile that appeared on his lips. 'And teeming with souls shall it ever be…'

He pulled the trigger but he couldn't finish the prayer, the words wouldn't come. The shot had hit The Governor between his eyes as the bullets sang out and the melody finished inside his body. He heard Daryl scream as Connor felt his body lift with the burning assault. The prayer finished in his head, his da saying it, Murphy but his voice was missing as the blood choked up in his mouth. He knew he had done what he shouldn't have, he knew that the road of revenge had been dark that he had thrown the guilt he had left festering inside his own soul onto another man but he couldn't stop. Now as he laid there, the plan executed he felt no different. The sorrowed emptiness was still there and it was all he could feel. The bleeding wounds from the bullets and the pain echoing fiercely inside of him. It was over. Finally over.


	26. 26

Daryl watched him die but he couldn't bring himself to shed tears. He saw a flash of Maggie and Glenn come rushing out with guns, taking out The Governor's men one by one. Rick shot from up top, firing off his rifle at each point of opposition. Their attack against their enemy became more vicious once they saw that Connor had been hit, his body riddled mercilessly with bullets. They were taking them out so that they could get Connor's body away from that field, away from the mass destruction raging all around them. Blood speckled the blades of grass, gun smoke rose in the air.

Daryl darted forward at Rick's command that sounded vague and far away. He got to his knees beside Connor and checked in a panic for a pulse, for something to tell him that he was still alive. There was nothing. Blood had poured from his mouth, from his wounds, from The Governor. He was dead, the crosses that hung from his necklace having fallen from his shirt and were now distantly hanging to touch the grass. He was as dead as The Governor was, as dead as any of the other men in the prison yard. And Daryl wondered, what with the revenge that Connor had taken into his own hands, if they were all resting in the same place after death.

He dusted away that pressing thought and quickly lifted him into his arms, his blood smearing on the front of his shirt and his body dead weight. He didn't care about the possibility of himself dying, didn't take note of the fact that he could very well die. He just knew that he had to get Connor out of here before his body was further desecrated by the assault of bullets. He couldn't let that happen. It didn't matter what he had done, how he had done it. 

The cell block doors were thrown open for him and he stumbled inside, careful not to let Connor go. Eventually his own strength gave out and he almost fell to the ground, letting Connor fall to the floor with him. His eyes glazed with tears as the doors were slammed shut. He could hear the war raging outside, could feel the echo of the gun fire resonate inside of him. He wanted to scream, wanted it all to stop. He wanted to know that Rick's plan, although ruined, hadn't been in vain. 

"Hershel!" He shouted even as the old man came towards him. He did what he could to rid himself of his crutch, allowing Beth to help him down. He was saying something but Daryl wasn't listening, his eyes stayed on Connor the whole time, wishing for some kind of sign that he hadn't been lost too. Merle, Connor, who else would come next? He was afraid there would be too many deaths for him to witness, too many people to let go of. He would never get used to it, how did one get used to death?

Daryl looked to Hershel frantically, looking into those eyes that held something never of them ever seemed to, that held something all of them had lost. It was wisdom, a touch of true compassion. But that wasn't what Daryl was seeking now. He wasn't seeking wisdom or even answers, he was looking for some sort of sign. That's all he wanted, all his mind cared about. With the tumultuous war living outside these walls and Hershel's gentle eyes in front of him he feared there wasn't a balance. There was no balance anymore, no fairness, nothing that mattered. All they found themselves clutching onto was fear and that was a lonely place to dwell.

"Is he alive?" He nearly shouted, his eyes wild with hope as he waiting almost breathlessly for Hershel's answer. It didn't come soon enough, at least not the one that he wanted. He saw his face fall before he could say a word and that sent a sharp agony to rush through his insides. The confirmation of his fears, that dark place that he knew they had now sunk into. He had to let go again, even though there hadn't been any time, there hadn't been anything at all between them. 

He turned away from Hershel, giving a small nod as he lowered his eyes to Connor's. He would never look at him again, those doubting eyes that he had grown so used to. He would never hear him, those stories written across his features. Would he miss him? Did he know him enough to miss him? He hadn't known him all too well, hadn't known a single thing about him other than what this world had done to him. But there was still that part of him that would do more than miss him. He would leave a hole inside of them.

He reached his hand out just as Hershel's warmth was removed from beside him. The block's doors had opened, sunlight blaring through as the world around them went silent. He touched carefully to one of the crosses that had fallen from Connor's shirt. He lifted his eyes to Connor's lifeless face as he carefully unstrung the chain from around his neck. Toying with the clasp he got it open and slipped it on over his head. The weight of the cross was heavy against the rigid beating of his heart so he took a breath to get himself used to the sudden feeling.

A hand settled on his shoulder and he slowly lifted his eyes from Connor's body, his eyes holding Rick's suddenly with dwelling sorrow. Rick gestured him to come outside, his footsteps leading the way outside of the prison and into the war torn yard. Daryl followed at his heel, his fingers still touching to the cold steel of the cross around his neck. He saw the bodies, the undead, the sun blistering down on him in a heated rain. He watched Rick hold his ground as Milton slowly made his way towards them. He wasn't holding anything and that was where Rick's stiff anger stemmed from. 

Everyone began to file out of the prison behind him and Daryl stood still, even as he heard hushed voices all around him. He was frozen, the pain of loss sticking with him but he would pull through, just as sure as the cross in his hands was real, he would pull through.

"He lied." Milton told Rick hesitantly. "There's no cure."

 

The revelation had done well in killing whatever hope any of the group had held onto. The world beginning to look more bleak as the days wore on. Andrea grew to forgive Rick, understanding the position he had been in but her soul was deeply scarred. Connor was gone and for some reason she couldn't help but blame herself for involving him in all of this, in his loss of faith, in showing him that not everything was as he wanted to see it. It took Daryl awhile until he finally broke from the shell of misery Connor's death had trapped him in, learning only to draw closer to the group that looked like it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. The world was at their blistered feet, even if the dead roamed the land around them, they had been given the keys to their own release. By who? Daryl knew, knew that freedom could only be given by the God that Connor had lost his faith in, that Connor had given up on in the end. That was the only way to survive and Daryl was sure as hell gonna take it. 

"Y'ready?" Rick asked, closing the car door once Carl scrambled in.

Daryl glanced at him and nodded, his eyes watching Andrea slip into the passenger seat. "I am." He whispered before he got into the separate car where Michonne was.

The engines started, breaking the silence that was only spelled by the hungry groans of walkers. The prison stood tall, a fortress still but marred by the blackness of death. Where once was safe was now a battered place of bruises and wounds. The road would prove much better, wherever they were headed, wherever they would find themselves. Daryl trusted that, understood it. He glanced out the window, catching sight of the crosses that were rooted into the ground. Lori, TDog, Connor. No more death, they were moving on from that. Faith had brought them here to this haven and faith was leading them out.


End file.
